Price Of Silence
by Aneiki-Rose
Summary: Harm gets more than he bargained for when he investigates the death of a Petty Officer. Some Harm/Meg shipping; but all past and present characters are included. Enjoy!


JAG  
  
PRICE OF SILENCE  
  
ONE  
  
July 5th  
  
1981  
  
The volleyball sailed up and over the net, and Harm Rabb gleefully spiked it from "mid-court", practically burying the ball in the grass at the feet of one of his best friends, Kevin Storey.  
  
"Game point!" Nicole Wilson, one of Harm's team-mates, yelled delightedly. Kevin made a face as he picked up the ball and lobbed it back to Rabb, whose turn it was to serve.  
  
"You're just lucky, Harm!" Storey protested. "Just wait awhile. We'll see who's riding in whose wake then."  
  
"Dream on, Ace." Harm prepared to serve the ball. "I'm gonna be the fastest, hottest pilot the Navy's ever seen."  
  
It was summer, just days before graduation, and Harmon Rabb, Jr. had not yet turned eighteen. He and a group of his friends were together at the Storey's house for one last bash before they all graduated from high school. Harm and Kevin had known each other since they were seven, and for years the two of them had planned to join the Navy when they were old enough. And now it was coming very close to being reality.  
  
"C'mon, Kevin.....I wanna play, too!" Kevin's younger brother Jim complained from the porch. Jim was four years old and very determined. Kevin rolled his eyes for the benefit of his friends.  
  
"You're too little, Jim. Go play with Kermit." Kermit was the Storey's dog, a black Lab they had named after Jim's favorite Sesame Street character.  
  
"How about--" Harm suggested as he hefted the volleyball in one hand. "--after we finish here, Jim, you and I'll play catch." The little boy's eyes grew wide in excitement, and he ran off to find his ball. Jim loved Harm; he was like another big brother, only a lot more patient than his real sibling.  
  
"You're a glutton for punishment, aren't you?" Kevin asked mischievously. Harm lofted the ball into the air for a wicked serve.  
  
"Nope......you are!" The volleyball bounced back and forth a few times, but by the time Jim returned with his ball, Harm had spiked it again for the winning point. "Game!"  
  
May 12th-16 years later  
  
1500 Hours  
  
JAG Headquarters  
  
Falls Church, Virginia  
  
"Lieutenant Commander Harmon Rabb. Sounds impressive, unless ya happen to know the bum."  
  
Harm glanced up from his desk to see Kevin Storey standing there, grinning lopsidedly at him.  
  
"Ace!" Rabb exclaimed, and he stood up quickly to greet his friend. "Come on in." He extended a hand, and Kevin gripped it tightly. Glancing to his left, Storey became aware of a dark-haired, brown eyed Marine Major who was regarding the two men curiously. "Mac," Harm addressed her, "Lemme introduce you to the second best pilot the Navy's ever seen....." Storey burst out laughing. "Lieutenant Kevin Storey. Ace, this is my partner, Major Sarah MacKenzie."  
  
"Don't believe everything you hear." Kevin told Mac with a grin. "I taught this slacker everything he knows in the cockpit." Now it was Harm's turn to laugh, and he shook his head a little bit.  
  
"What brings you out here?" Harm wanted to know as he leaned back against his desk.  
  
"Maintenance. We're docked down at Norfolk. Decided to take advantage of the shore leave to harass some friends. Oh.....did I tell ya-- Jimmy's up for his 2nd class test."  
  
"Really?" Harm grinned. "And you were all worried that he wouldn't turn out to be any good."  
  
"Well......at least he didn't decide to become a jarhead!" Storey kidded, then suddenly remembered in whose presence he was standing. "No, uhm......offense intended, Ma'am." Sarah fixed him with a pointed stare, but Harm could see the humor in her eyes as she replied,  
  
"None taken, Lieutenant. I very rarely take anything swabs tell me too seriously." Harm chuckled a bit. Sarah stood up and picked up several files that needed to be returned to Records. "I'll be back in a few minutes. I'll just leave you two to catch up with each other." She exited the office, and Kevin watched her go. Harm noticed the look, and he shook his head slightly.  
  
"Forget it, Ace. She's married to the Corps."  
  
"Lucky for the Corps." Storey said resignedly.  
  
"So Jimmy didn't want to become a fighter jockey like his big brother, huh?" Harm folded his arms across his chest. Kevin chuckled a little bit. "He's still on the Duncan, right?"  
  
"You know the answer to that. Jimmy's never wanted to be like me. Besides, he hates heights. And yeah, he's still with the Duncan. How've you been, Harm?" Storey looked around the office. "You seem to be doing okay for yourself here." The lieutenant's voice had dropped into a bit of a serious tone. The last time they'd spoken had not been long after the crash that had cost Harm his wings. Harm came up from his desk and walked back around to his chair.  
  
"I like it. I'm good at it." He said this without pride; it was simply a statement of fact. His voice trailed a little, and he met Kevin's gaze squarely. "I miss the cockpit, if that's what you're asking." he admitted. "You take what life gives you, sometimes. But this....." Harm looked around the office appraisingly a moment. "This is very good. It's where I want to be."  
  
"Well, if I'm ever caught for raising Cain, I know who I want to defend me." Storey's tone lightened again. "Ever hear anything of the old gang?" Harm grinned.  
  
"Remember Becca Ryan?"  
  
"The President's sister? How could I forget? Oh, yeah."  
  
"She's made Commander, works over at NCIS HQ. And Chipper Stevenson is an Air Force Captain."  
  
"Really? Chipper Stevenson. I haven't thought about him for years."  
  
"Ran into him when I was out at Miramar last summer. He's married too--has a couple of kids." The information was definitely news to Storey, whose face took on a bemused expression.  
  
"Huh. 'magine that--Chipper the confirmed bachelor turned Chipper the family man. Gee, Harm, what happened to all of us?"  
  
"We grew up. We quit playing volleyball and Space Invaders and moved on to bigger toys, like Tomcats and carriers." Rabb's joke was not lost on Kevin, who grinned broadly.  
  
"You just traded a playground for a courtroom, is that it?"  
  
"Something like that." Harm replied.  
  
"Ask him about conducting target practice in a courtroom sometime." Sarah was back, and her comment was accompanied by a pointed look at Harm, who grinned at her wickedly. "You might find the story amusing."  
  
"I had her under the table, Ace. Under the table. And she tells me Marines don't duck."  
  
"I don't think I'm gonna ask." Storey shook his head. "And who said anything about not playing volleyball? You're looking at one half of the two-man team champs in our battlegroup." Kevin glanced quickly at his watch. "Oops. Gotta run. I'm supposed to be meeting up with Andy Stockard. You remember him, Harm? Kid who used to run poker games in the locker room? He's in D.C., working with the FBI. He's gonna treat me to lunch."  
  
"Hey......gonna be in town a few days?" Harm asked. "We should get together sometime.....I'll give Becca Ryan a call."  
  
"Sounds good, Harm. Nice to have met you, Major." Kevin nodded toward Sarah, who glanced up briefly and smiled. "Keep him in line, okay?"  
  
"I try." MacKenzie replied lightly.  
  
"She rarely succeeds." Harm put in. With that, Kevin Storey was on his way. Harm was still smiling.  
  
"Old flying buddy?" Mac asked.  
  
"Nope. Well....yeah, that too, I should say; he's still a pilot on the Seahawk. We went to school together......joined the Navy together. You might say we were Frick and Frack when we were kids. His brother Jim's a Petty Officer on the U.S.S. Duncan......poor kid's put up with a lot of grief from the two of us."  
  
"I can believe that." Sarah grinned mischievously at Harm. "I know I put up with a lot from you, and I just work with you."  
  
"Just for that, Major, you can get your own coffee." Harm had picked up both of their mugs for a refill, and he pointedly set Sarah's back down on the table with a grin. Sarah shrugged and set the mug aside.  
  
"I didn't want any more, anyway." she replied nonchalantly. Harm's grin broadened and he shook his head.  
  
"Gotta love me." Harm turned around to exit the office and ended up very nearly stepping on the feet of Commander Allison Krennick, who had just come through the open door. Krennick was not officially part of their immediate office any longer; she was now head of Legal Research on the third floor. Harm blinked and backed up, startled by her unexpected presence and his near-trampling of her toes. She simply regarded the offending patent-leather shoes for a moment before raising her head slightly to look up to his six-foot-four-inch height. "Sorry, Commander." Harm apologized, although his tone indicated that he wasn't quite......repentant. "Something we can do for you, ma'am?"  
  
"Not 'we', Mister Rabb. You." Krennick's tone was slightly annoyed. "Three weeks ago I requested a listing of all the archival materials this office has in its possesion from my department. I am instituting a new filing system, and as of yet, I have not received a report from you."  
  
Harm adopted his most innocent expression. To be perfectly honest, he hadn't given Krennick's memo a second thought; the caseload as of late had been particularly heavy and he hadn't had the time to catalogue all the research materials that were in the office. In fact.....he wasn't even quite sure where he'd put the memo.  
  
"It'll be on your desk by the end of the day." Harm promised, and Mac glanced up at him curiously. She knew Harm hadn't even begun to do anything about it, and there were quite a number of files and resources they had down here from Research in support of their current cases. She also knew that Harm did not have the time today to even blink at Krennick's report. However, she said nothing, and simply returned to her work, wisely staying out of the conversation.  
  
"I'll expect you to keep your word on that, Lieutenant Commander." Krennick turned smartly on her heel and strode from the office, and Mac watched her go.  
  
"I bet she was interesting to work with down here." Sarah remarked casually. Harm grinned as he put his mug down and shuffled through his "in" basket.  
  
"Very." was his only reply. He straightened away from his desk with a sheet of paper just as Lieutenant j.g. Bud Roberts walked in with the morning's mail.  
  
"Good morning, sir--" Roberts stopped short as Rabb handed him the paper.  
  
"Bud, there's your project for today." Harm announced as the lieutenant j.g. scanned the contents of Allison Krennick's memo. "I need it by 1630 today, probably in triplicate if I know Commander Krennick......and Bud, whatever you do, don't let her see you doing it."  
  
"Sort of like having someone else do your homework, isn't it, Commander?" Sarah asked impishly, but the comment was lost on Bud, who was absorbing the fact that this was going to be an all-day task. Rabb, however, simply shook his head and started once more for the coffee maker, leaving Sarah laughing and Bud wondering what he'd just missed.  
  
TWO  
  
May 12th  
  
1901 Hours  
  
U.S.S. Duncan  
  
Somewhere in the Atlantic  
  
Lieutenant Amanda Powers stood at the rail of the Duncan, watching the bow knife through the water, kicking up salty spray in the early evening air. She licked her lips a bit, tasting the salt, watching the sunset. Her watch didn't begin for hour, and she completely enjoyed this part of her day.......taking a few minutes on deck to watch the sun go down, feeling the power of the frigate beneath her feet and the salty breeze in her face.  
  
Amanda had joined the Navy because of her brother, mostly, who had been stationed on the submarine Dallas back some years ago, until a car accident while on leave had left him paralyzed from the waist down. Darin had always been supportive of her choice to join the military, and he had been most pleased when she had decided to follow in his footsteps and join the Navy.  
  
"Nice out here tonight, isn't it?"  
  
The voice startled her, and Amanda turned around sharply to see Captain Michael O'Leary standing next to her.  
  
"Sir!" she exclaimed as she came to attention. "You startled me."  
  
"At ease, Lieutenant. I'm not on duty, and neither are you." O'Leary replied, looking past Powers to gaze at the sunset on the horizon. He glanced around to make sure no one was nearby, and he dropped his voice slightly. "You are very pretty in this light, you know."  
  
Instead of being offended, or exclaiming, "Red light", Amanda simply stifled a smile and turned back toward the railing.  
  
"Does that mean I'm ugly in the full light of day, sir?" she replied lightly. O'Leary chuckled softly, and he reached over to brush her hand briefly with his fingertips.  
  
"Of course not, Lieutenant." he murmured quietly. "You don't begin your watch until 2000 hours, do you?"  
  
"You know I don't, sir." Amanda replied, glancing around herself to be sure they weren't overheard.  
  
"Meet me belowdecks......usual place?" The captain stepped back to go, and Powers nodded slightly. "Very well, then, Lieutenant. Carry on." He turned smartly and walked off across the deck. Amanda remained at the railing for another five minutes, then also left, making her way belowdecks.  
  
She had been aboard the Duncan for nearly seven months now, and her first encounter with Captain Michael O'Leary had been slightly embarrassing. She had been trying to move a heavy case, and he had offered to help her. Being the gung-ho feminist that she had made herself out to be, she refused it. But in her attempts to resist his aid, she had dropped the case on the captain's foot, amazingly breaking nothing but her pride. She had expected him to be angry at her; instead, he had admired her resolve. Or so he had told her.  
  
Eventually they began to talk off-duty, and they were drawn to one another, even though the regulations specifically forbade them to have a relationship other than formal. But passions often remain untamed by rules and regulations.......soon they began meeting privately, in obscure spots at odd hours, just to spend time together. Of course, one thing led to another.......  
  
Sometimes it made her afraid, this love she had for Michael. It was dangerous, to both of them. She knew that, and sometimes she wondered if for his sake she should request a transfer, leave the Duncan. However, when she'd talked to him about it, O'Leary had persuaded her to stay, telling her that he and his wife were planning on a divorce anyway, and somehow he would find a way to make this work for them. She knew there was no way......no real way......for them to be together, and yet.....she couldn't stay away from him.  
  
Amanda had made her way down to the cargo hold. The Duncan was mostly a supply frigate, carrying needed materials to various naval ships at sea. It was fairly dark down here, but she was able to find her way by memory now. In a far corner, behind a stack of crates, Michael waited for her. She took off her shoes and sat down beside him, and he gently began to unbutton her shirt.....all the while kissing her face and her neck. And now.....there was no captain, no lieutenant......no ship, no crew.....just the passion of the moment and his gentle touch......  
  
May 14th  
  
1203 Hours  
  
Stuart Park  
  
Near Leesburg, Virginia  
  
"Okay......grill's ready. Where's the meat?" Harm turned away from the barbeque grill and Rebecca Ryan handed him a styrofoam plate of hamburgers and hot dogs.  
  
"You sure we can trust you not to kill us all, Harm?" she teased, and Rabb took on a wounded expression as he swatted her shoulder with a spatula.  
  
"Thank you so much for that vote of confidence, doubting Becca. The Rabb family barbeque sauce has never failed me yet. You guys are gonna love this."  
  
"Maybe I should take over.......rescue us all." Meg Austin piped up from the picnic table, and Harm pointed at her with the spatula, giving his former partner a wise look.  
  
"Not a word outta you." he said. From a few feet away, Kevin Storey laughed at the exchange. He was setting up the volleyball net.  
  
"Hey, I may be a bachelor, but I can cook." Harm defended himself as he continued to put burgers on the grill. "Well.....somewhat." He grinned at Meg.  
  
"That would about describe the cookout we had at Conovers, Harm." Kevin paused in his setting up of the net. "I wouldn't have called that.....cooking." Harm's response was to pick up the water bottle he'd brought along for flame control and squirt Storey liberally. "You might wanna conserve that, Harm. Especially if you don't want a repeat of what happened at Conovers'--"  
  
"That's it!" Rabb announced, and he doused Kevin with the water bottle again, to the combined laughter of Meg and Becca.  
  
The foursome had decided on a picnic before Kevin had to return to the Seahawk. Harm had invited Meg along, both because he knew of her growing friendship with Rebecca Ryan outside of their working together at NCIS, and also simply because......he enjoyed her company.  
  
"Okay, okay......no more tormenting the chef." Becca giggled.  
  
"That's right." Meg piped up. "Because he'll be tormented enough with grief once we're all gone.......death by barbeque!"  
  
"Aargh!" Harm turned the bottle on Meg, who promptly ducked behind Becca, just in time for Ryan to get a faceful of water. Becca shrieked and darted away, leaving Meg unprotected from Rabb's next barrage. However, instead of running away from him, Meg darted toward him, wrestling the bottle from Harm's fingers and giving him a thorough soaking. By the time they were finished, they were all dripping water and laughing themselves breathless.  
  
"Hey.....anybody care about these burgers over here?" Kevin asked, and Harm jogged back to the grill just in time to flip the patties over. Storey returned to assembling the volleyball net, and Harm glanced up idly across the park What he saw warranted a second look, and his brows knit together briefly in a slight frown.  
  
Coming toward them with a purposeful stride was a naval officer in his dress blues. Harm set the spatula aside and wiped his hands on a paper towel, approaching the officer curiously. On closer inspection, Harm recognized the man as Commander Mitchell Ellison, another pilot from the Seahawk. He glanced back over his shoulder; Kevin was still absorbed in the volleyball net, his back to them. Becca and Meg, however, were looking curiously in their direction. Drawing closer, Harm suddenly hesitated. Ellison's expression was serious, but.....apprehensive, too. Harm's blood ran cold.....he knew that look. He had seen it often enough. The first time.....he had been a child, holding his mother's hand while two naval officers came to their door.  
  
Forcing his suspicions aside, Harm offered a hand to the commander and smiled.  
  
"Hi, Mitch. Did Kevin invite you to crash the party?" Ellison took Harm's hand in a firm grip, but he did not smile in return.  
  
"Hello, Harm. No, I'm afraid I'm not here to have lunch with you, much as I'd like to." The commander looked past Harm's shoulder at Kevin, who had turned around to see who Rabb was talking to. "I came to find Lieutenant Storey, actually." Ellison brushed past Harm, and Rabb trailed a few steps behind him as he walked over to Kevin.  
  
"Yes, sir?" Storey had drawn himself to attention, even though he was officially off-duty. Ellison paused a moment, glancing away. Finally he looked at Kevin squarely.  
  
"Lieutenant......we just received word from the Duncan. Your brother Jim was killed this morning in an accident on board. I'm sorry."  
  
"Jimmy?" Kevin paled a little, looking around a bit, struggling to comprehend what he'd just been told. Harm sucked in a sharp little breath, and he sat down abruptly at the picnic table. Even though he'd sensed it coming, it still somehow took him by surprise, and he felt as if he'd been kicked in the stomach. He barely felt Meg's hand on his shoulder.  
  
"Kev....I'm sorry." Becca touched Storey's shoulder.  
  
It was as if the whole world had ground to a halt in that one terrible instant. Harm looked up at Kevin, and the two friends saw the truth of it mirrored in the other's face, speaking without words their loss.  
  
"The Duncan is putting in to Norfolk; she's already underway and she'll make dock by tomorrow." Ellison finished. Kevin nodded.  
  
"Harm.....I'm sorry--"  
  
"Go ahead, Ace. Go home. I'll talk to you later." He watched as Kevin followed Ellison from the park, and he shivered slightly, chilled both mentally and physically as the breeze blew gently against his wet clothes.  
  
May 16th  
  
1330 Hours  
  
Arlington Cemetery  
  
Washington, D.C.  
  
Harm pulled on a thin pair of white gloves before getting out of the car. Opening the door, he stepped out into the warm afternoon air. The hearse was just now entering the grounds, and the other five pallbearers fell in behind Harm, uniformly attired in dress whites. Harm followed the progress of the vehicle with his eyes, and then glanced over to the open grave that waited for Jim Storey's body.  
  
Another white cross. Another performance of Taps. Another American flag folded up and delivered into the hands of family left behind. It was the risk they had all accepted to become part of the Navy. It was now reality, today. Harm swallowed hard, his gaze returning to the hearse, which had come to a halt. He signalled the others with a hushed vocal command, and they marched, two abreast, to the vehicle while family and friends gathered around the gravesite.  
  
Kevin had asked Harm to do this last thing for Jim, and Rabb had willingly agreed. Now, as the door opened and the casket was visible, he wished that someone would pinch him awake and tell him it was only a bad dream. But, that didn't happen. The casket was pulled from the hearse, and the six men lifted it between them. Harm faced the gravesite and commanded them forward. They walked in tandem, left/right, left/right, sunlight gleaming on the brass buttons of their uniforms and their polished leather shoes. The silence was broken only by the muffled sounds of weeping, and the soft spoken commands of the honor guard as they took their places just behind the grave.  
  
Harm felt numb, almost a bystander and not a participant in this memorial. They settled the casket down onto the framework over the open grave for this last bit of honor they would do for one of their own. He half-heard to the eulogy, thinking of the small boy who had tagged him around whenever he'd come to visit Kevin, and the young man who had made the Navy his chosen career after them. He stood at the head of the casket, gripping the end of the flag as the other pallbearers took their turns folding it toward him, then tucked the ends in neatly and handed it with a salute to Captain O'Leary, who had come ashore for the funeral. O'Leary handed the flag to Jim and Kevin's mother, who took it with shaking hands. Kevin had his hand on her shoulder, steadying her. The gun salute....Taps......suddenly, it was over and everyone was filing away.  
  
Harm sat in his car, peeling off the gloves, when a rap at the window startled him into glancing up. Sarah was standing there, and Harm put the window down.  
  
"Hi." she said softly, and Harm frowned slightly.  
  
"Hi. What are you doing here?"  
  
"Admiral Chegwidden told me what happened. I thought....I should see if you needed anything." Mac was hesitant, but Harm smiled slightly. It was not unlike his waiting outside of a courtroom a few months ago to check on her during a particularly rough trial.  
  
"Wanna go for a drive?" Harm inclined his head toward the passenger seat. Mac came around the front end of the car and climbed in, and Harm cranked the ignition. "You don't have anything pressing at the office, do you?"  
  
"No.....an opening statement, but that can wait." Sarah replied as Rabb began to steer the car out of the cemetery. They were silent for a long moment, and Mac glanced at him out of the corner of her eye.  
  
"You know.....I don't have any brothers or sisters." Harm started, his voice soft. "Kevin and Jim were.....well.....like family to me. Jim was like the kid brother I always wanted. When we were kids, I always felt like I had to protect him, take care of him." Rabb reached into the breast pocket of his uniform with one hand and pulled out a photograph that he handed to Sarah. She took it from his fingers and looked at it. It was from a party a few years ago.....Harm's thirtieth birthday. He and Kevin and Jim were all standing side by side, smiling. "He'd just told me he was enlisting in the Navy. Said that was part of my birthday present." Harm recalled fondly, flicking on the turn signal and taking a right. "You know what?" His voice took on a note of sadness, and Mac glanced up at him. "Sometimes I wonder if what I'm doing here really matters."  
  
"Harm.....you know it does. It wouldn't be any different if you were a civilian lawyer....or anything else, for that matter. You can't fix everything. You can't be everyone's guardian angel." She handed the picture back, and when he reached for it, she clasped his wrist with her slender fingers. "I might not have known Petty Officer Storey, but I do know you, and I know you're no quitter." Harm glanced back at her momentarily, giving her a small, sad smile.  
  
"I don't want to quit, Mac......I just wonder sometimes if it makes a difference."  
  
"I know it's made a difference for me." Her tone was soft, and Harm couldn't quite look at her. "From those first days, when you defended my uncle in court.....you have made a difference in my life, Harm."  
  
Rabb pulled to a stop at a traffic light and looked over at Sarah. She held his gaze for a moment, and he finally smiled.  
  
"Thanks, Mac." It was all he needed to say.....and it said it all. The light changed, and Harm returned his attention to the road. They drove for awhile like that, just talking. Eventually they ended up in the JAG parkade, and Harm idled the 'Vette while Sarah got out. "I appreciate you listening, Mac."  
  
"You're welcome. Seems like you were due some payback."  
  
May 17th  
  
0615 Hours  
  
Near Union Station  
  
Washington, D.C.  
  
Harm jogged into mile number three, letting the cool morning air and the physical work of the run clear his mind. Admiral Chegwidden had insisted that Rabb take an extra day following the funeral, and although he had originally protested, Harm was glad to have the time off.  
  
Suddenly he was aware of the sounds of another runner, and he glanced back to see Kevin Storey gaining on him. Rabb slowed his pace long enough for the lieutenant to catch up with him, then picked it back up gradually.  
  
"Thought....I might find you out here." Storey commented after a moment's running in silence alongside his friend.  
  
"Helps me think." Rabb replied, a small smile coming to his face. "And you know me; I need all the help I can get."  
  
"Heh." Storey exhaled in a short chuckle. "Look, Harm.....the Seahawk's putting out again in four days. I'd like to ask a couple of favors of you, if I could."  
  
"Fire away." Harm replied. The two men rounded a bend in the road that wound its way through the park.  
  
"First of all.....Mom's going to be on her own again, and....well....."  
  
"I'll check in on her." Harm promised instantly. He had spent enough time in the Storey household as a kid to appreciate Eileen Storey, Kevin and Jim's infinitely patient mother. "And the other favor?"  
  
Kevin hesitated a moment, and Rabb glanced over at him curiously.  
  
"Harm, I'd really appreciate it if you could take a closer look at what happened to Jimmy." Harm stopped running altogether now, and he frowned a little bit as Kevin faced him.  
  
"Ace, the NCIS investigation declared Jimmy's death accidental. There's no reason for the JAG Corps to look any closer at all. I don't--"  
  
"Harm." Kevin closed his eyes a moment, then opened them again. "Look, I know accidents happen. And I know that people make mistakes. But Jimmy was too careful with his gear to let something like that happen."  
  
Harm's frown deepened, and he folded his arms across his chest.  
  
"Ace....I can appreciate what you're going through; I loved Jimmy like a real brother. But do you understand what you're saying here? If Jimmy's death wasn't accidental, then that means someone committed murder. And NCIS says there was no evidence of foul play." Kevin nodded, glancing away. Rabb examined his expression closely; there was something....odd.... "Ace, what is it you're not telling me?"  
  
Storey reached into his sweatshirt pocket, pulling out a note and handing it to Harm. Rabb took the note and opened it, giving Kevin a curious glance before beginning to read it.  
  
"I found that in my locker on the Seahawk this morning."  
  
Harm read the note aloud, thoughtfully.  
  
"Lieutenant Storey:  
  
I am a sailor aboard the U.S.S. Duncan, and I served with your brother Jim. Jim was a fine petty officer, and a good friend. Sir, I can't tell you much more than this, because I fear for my own life, but Jim's death was no accident. I don't know what else to do but to inform you of this, in hopes that justice might be done." He looked up at Kevin and folded the note back up, tucking it into the hip pocket of his running shorts. "I'd like to keep this, if you don't mind."  
  
"Will you look into it, Harm?"  
  
Rabb sighed softly, tilting his head back to gaze up into the cloudless morning sky, blue as a robin's egg.  
  
"It's not much to go on.....thing's not even signed, for pete's sake. But I promise you, I'll check it out." He looked at Kevin squarely, and Storey nodded once in acknowledgement.  
  
"Thank you, Harm. I appreciate this." The lieutenant held Harm's gaze a moment longer, then turned around and started jogging back the way he'd come. Harm watched him go a moment, then turned and continued on his own run, his mind moving faster than his body, turning over this new information. If this is a case of murder, and not accidental death...... Harm picked up his pace a notch, the anticipation of reopening the investigation fueling his thoughts.  
  
May 17th  
  
0840 Hours  
  
U.S.S. Duncan  
  
Norfolk, Virginia  
  
Petty Officer David Hines stood at the rail, gazing out over the docked naval ships that surrounded the Duncan, his hands clenched into tight fists. He bowed his head a moment, the burden of Jimmy's loss weighing on him. They'd bunked together, he and Jim Storey, and they had become good friends in the course of their tour together. He'd been happy as a clam that Jimmy was set for his second class test, even if it meant Storey would be advancing before he did.  
  
"Aren't you going to take advantage of the shore leave, Petty Officer Hines?"  
  
David turned to see the Duncan's XO, Timothy Hollander, standing there, and he straightened up to attention.  
  
"No, sir. I....didn't think it would be necessary."  
  
"At ease. I see. And why is that?" Hollander regarded the petty officer curiously.  
  
"Well....with Petty Officer Storey's funeral and everything.....just doesn't seem right, sir."  
  
Hollander nodded, studying the serious expression on Hines' face.  
  
"Petty Officer Storey's death was a tragic event, I agree. I hope it doesn't become an embarrassment for the skipper." Hollander gave Hines a penetrating look. "I'm going to make sure that it doesn't. Is that understood, sailor?" Hines' jaw tightened slightly before he replied,  
  
"Aye, sir."  
  
"Good. Now I suggest you take that shore leave, and forget about things for awhile. Be good for you."  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
Hollander watched the petty officer go, then he nodded in satisfaction. Have to keep that boy in line. He thought to himself, turning toward the railing to gaze out at the same view of the harbor that Hines' had contemplated moments before.  
  
May 17th  
  
1100 Hours  
  
North of Union Station  
  
Washington, D.C.  
  
The paintbrush glided across the surface of the shelf, with nice, even strokes. Harm was staining a small bookshelf he'd picked up at a yard sale. The wood was in excellent condition and it only needed to be stripped and stained. Upon returning to his apartment, he'd thrown himself into the work, giving himself something to occupy his time while he contemplated his promise to Kevin Storey.  
  
He was halfway finished with the first coat, and Harm stood up a moment to stretch. A thought came to him, and he set the paintbrush aside and picked up his phone. The phone on the other end of the line rang once.....twice......three times.  
  
"Good afternoon; NCIS, Commander Ryan's office." a pleasant voice answered.  
  
"Good afternoon, Ensign.....Calloway, isn't it?"  
  
"Yes, it is. May I help you?"  
  
"This is Lieutenant Commander Rabb. I'd like to speak to Commander Ryan, if it's possible." Harm waited a moment while the ensign put him on hold. A moment later, the line was picked back up.  
  
"Harm? I thought you were taking the day off." Becca Ryan's voice greeted him. Rabb chuckled.  
  
"I'm surprised you're not, Becca." he answered easily.  
  
"No rest for the wicked, I'm afraid. Actually, I'd rather be here. Too much time to....think about everything....." She sighed. "Jack's already called me three times today. Enough worrying about me, okay? I'm fine."  
  
"Well....that's not exactly why I called, but let me put in my two cents while I'm at it. Leave early. You need the time to grieve, Becca. We all do." There was a hesitant sigh on the other end.  
  
"I know. I will." Ryan finally agreed. "If that's not why you called, then why did you?" Her voice took on a businesslike tone, and Harm took his cue that that particular discussion was at an end.  
  
"I need to ask you a favor. I'm going to approach Admiral Chegwidden about reopening the investigation on Jim's death." Harm dropped the other shoe, and he paused. There was a long moment of silence.  
  
"Harm, I can't help you with this. The NCIS investigation is closed, and that's final." Becca's tone was almost harsh. "I can appreciate what you're going through; I miss Jim too, but making something out of this that isn't there won't bring him back."  
  
"I'm not asking for much. Just the NCIS file.....you can send it over with Lieutenant. Austin, if you'd like." When Ryan remained silent, Harm sighed. "Look, Kevin got a tip that it wasn't an accident. He asked me to look into it. And I just can't.....not do it."  
  
"All right." Ryan's tone suggested that she still wasn't too thrilled. "I'll send Meg over with the investigation brief."  
  
"Thanks, Becca. You know I wouldn't ask if it was anyone else."  
  
"You owe me, Mister Rabb." Ryan's tone lightened a bit, and Rabb chuckled slightly.  
  
"I suppose I do." Harm hung up the phone, and returned to the shelves, thinking over how to best present his petition to the Admiral to reopen the investigation.....  
  
It was some time later and Harm was sanding down the shelves, preparing for the next coat of stain. The muscles in his arm flexed and extended with each long stroke of the sandpaper, a fine grit coating his fingertips and settling onto the old tarp he had spread out beneath him. He had his stereo on, and was humming along to the jazz CD he had playing. True to form, he had it cranked loudly enough that he nearly missed the knock at the door. Jumping up suddenly, he hustled over to open it and smiled at the sight of Lieutenant jg Meg Austin standing there.  
  
"Come on in." he invited, turning toward the stereo and quickly lowering the volume. Meg stepped inside and pushed the door closed behind her, and she followed Harm back into the living area, where he hunched down beside the shelves again and resumed the sanding with his other hand. "Did Becca send the file over?" Rabb glanced up at her. "You can sit down, you know. Unless you have to get back right away or something...."  
  
Austin regarded him concernedly for a moment, then slipped into a chair that sat off to Harm's right. Her blue eyes watched him intently as he worked the sandpaper along the shelves.  
  
"Yes, I have it here." Meg finally answered his question, and she set the manila folder on a nearby endtable. "Harm.....are you....okay?" She asked this hesitantly, and Harm nodded as he continued to work.  
  
"Hmm....yeah, I'm fine." he replied casually, not quite looking at her.  
  
"You're a lousy liar, sir." Meg accused, and Harm abruptly stopped sanding and sat back, returning her gaze frankly. She could see the sadness that lurked just behind those hazel eyes, and her heart went out to him. "Do you want to talk about it?"  
  
"To be honest.....I haven't really wanted to think about it." He motioned to the shelves. "I've just been trying to hold it at arm's length, be objective about it."  
  
"Objective? That's an odd way to talk about the death of a good friend." Meg frowned slightly.  
  
"Commander Ryan didn't tell you why I wanted the NCIS investigation brief, did she?" It was a statement rather than a real question, and Harm sighed. "I'm going to reopen the investigation." Meg nodded; it wasn't a real surprise. Harm was fiercely loyal to his friends; it would only be natural for him to want to seek an explanation for this tragedy for himself.  
  
"You sound pretty certain of that. Have you talked to the Admiral about your intentions?" She kept her voice calm, neutral.  
  
"Not yet." Harm dropped the sander and climbed to his feet, rubbing dusty hands on his jeans. "But if he authorizes it, I'm going to ask Becca for another favor."  
  
"Oh?" Meg said curiously as Harm walked past her to fish a beer out of the fridge.  
  
"You want something to drink?" He asked as he opened the beer. "I've got some iced tea in here." The lieutenant jg shook her head, and he wandered back toward her.  
  
"What favor?" Meg wanted to know, as she pushed her short blonde hair back behind her ears. Harm took a swallow of beer before answering her question.  
  
"I'm going to ask her to let you work this case with me. I want someone on this who's got access over there."  
  
Meg tried not to let her surprise show. After all this time, she had not thought to ever work directly with Harm again, and the very idea made her pulse race. Finally she nodded.  
  
"If you really think there's more to this, then I'll help you find out what it is."  
  
"I was hoping you would say that."  
  
THREE  
  
May 18th  
  
0940 Hours  
  
U.S.S. Duncan  
  
Norfolk, Virginia  
  
Amanda unpacked her bag slowly, putting her things away in preparation for their return to sea. The moment she'd received leave, she practically fled the ship, going to stay with a friend for a few days while the funeral for Petty Officer Storey was conducted and repairs made to the bridge sonar array.....  
  
Suddenly she was aware of someone standing there, and she looked up to see Captain O'Leary regarding her from the hatch.  
  
"You're back early, Lieutenant." O'Leary remarked lightly, and Amanda turned away, hanging up one of her khaki shirts.  
  
"Early? How so? I thought we were scheduled to ship out tomorrow morning, sir."  
  
"Hmph." O'Leary sniffed disdainfully. "Seems we've been ordered to remain in Norfolk awhile longer. Apparently the NCIS investigation wasn't good enough for 'em, so the JAG requested that Admiral Drake keep us in Norfolk a few extra days. Guess he was obliging enough, and they're sending some legal hotshot to poke his nose into it."  
  
"Oh." Amanda stifled a shudder. She'd been on the bridge when it had happened......half the sonar array had blown apart, the force of the blast snapping Jim's neck like a matchstick. His body had been thrown to the deck; he'd landed right in front of her feet. She could still see the empty eyes as they stared sightlessly up at her.  
  
NCIS had ruled the death an accident; apparently some sort of electrical malfunction within the array had triggered a spark that ignited the electronics, blowing out the array like lightning blowing out a television, but with quite a bit more force. There had been no charges of negligence brought, but the whole incident had left a demoralizing pall over the ship. Nobody's supposed to die in a simulation. She thought again of that terrible instant, when she was kneeling beside Jim's motionless body, closing his eyes while the fire was being put out.  
  
"Are you all right, Lieutenant?" O'Leary was mindful of still being in the doorway; as yet no one had seen him there, but he was careful nonetheless.  
  
"What?" Amanda looked up suddenly, and she realized with a start that her eyes were watering. She quickly glanced away, brushing her eyes with the back of her hand. "I'm fine." She returned to unpacking, keeping her back to O'Leary.  
  
"Do you really expect me to believe that?" Michael stepped just inside the hatch and regarded her. "Talk to me. Or do I have to make that an order?"  
  
"I'm all right. It's just......well, I had words with Petty Officer Storey the day before he died. It just bothers me that I never resolved that." Powers shrugged slightly, as if trying to brush off an annoying insect. In truth, she was trying to keep the walls up, keep her emotional distance. O'Leary sensed it, and he tensed slightly.  
  
"Is that why you put in for a transfer?" He asked her quietly. "I thought we had resolved that. You were going to stay on the Duncan. People die in combat, you know. You can't just transfer out whenever someone dies on your tour of duty."  
  
Amanda turned toward him now, and there was a flash of anger in her eyes.  
  
"That, sir, is not fair. I've worked very hard to get where I am right now. Don't you think I know the risks of serving aboard a combat vessel? I wouldn't have pursued this course of action of I was afraid of a little blood. As for the transfer.....well, I need to get on with my life, Captain. I can't just stay in limbo for the rest of it."  
  
"I see." O'Leary leaned against the hatchway and folded his arms across his chest. "You don't think you have a future here aboard the Duncan?" Powers continued finished unpacking, and she put away the duffle bag. She avoided answering him as long as she could while she straightened up the rest of her side of the cabin. "Are you going to answer me, Lieutenant?"  
  
"I don't think I have a future with.....you, sir." She finally said frankly. "We never should have let ourselves get involved in this relationship to begin with....."  
  
Captain O'Leary pulled the hatch shut suddenly, and Amanda flinched at the sudden clang of metal on metal. He came toward her and she could see the anger dancing in his eyes.  
  
"What are you talking about? I love you. I've risked my career for you. My wife and I will be divorced by this time next month. We could get married.....it would have to be secret, of course, but.....Amanda, I need you."  
  
Powers shook her head slowly.  
  
"No, sir. I can't do that...I can't wait any longer. It's time I moved on. I'm sorry it has to be like this, but you're not the only one who's risking their career here."  
  
Sir....not Michael. O'Leary couldn't believe what he was hearing. Suddenly he grabbed her, perhaps a bit harder than he'd intended, and he roughly kissed her. Amanda turned her head, struggling in his grasp, but he held her arms tightly in his strong hands. "What--what are you doing, sir?" Amanda gasped out, knowing that there were going to be bruises from those fingers gripping her arms.  
  
"I'm taking what's mine.....what should've simply been given to me.....what was given to me once." He leaned down to her again, kissing her brusquely, and Amanda again turned away.  
  
"Red light, Captain!" She suddenly choked out, and he abruptly released her with his left hand, raising it to strike her until Powers cringed. Realizing all at once what he'd been about to do, he let her go and backed off.  
  
"Amanda.....honey....I'm sorry. I don't.....I just don't want to lose you."  
  
Powers rubbed her arms ruefully, but she stood her ground.  
  
"Perhaps you've already done that." she replied, maybe a bit more coldly than she'd intended. "I think, Captain, that you should return to the bridge, before someone misses you up there." It was the strongest hint she could give without being insubordinate; she knew that from now on she was going to have to be very professional with him until her transfer came through.  
  
Michael O'Leary simply stood there, for the first time in his life at a loss of words. He shook his head, and reached out a hand toward her. Powers backed up a step, still nursing her left arm.  
  
"Amanda, please......think it over."  
  
"There's nothing more to think over, Captain. I've made up my mind, and I've submitted my request. If I have to, I'll go above your head. I don't want to, but I will if I have to." She gazed at him frankly. "Now, please sir.....I'd like to be alone, with your permission." Amanda purposefully came to attention, making her intentions clear with her attitude as well as her words, and O'Leary finally nodded.  
  
"As you were." he said bitterly, and then he was gone. Powers slumped into the chair behind her, and she sighed softly. She loved Michael....perhaps more than anyone she'd ever loved before. And just maybe he really loved her too. But she was afraid, and she didn't know what else to do but leave as soon as possible. Afraid, not of blood, or of combat.  
  
Afraid she might be way in over her head with no way to get out.  
  
May 18th  
  
1030 Hours  
  
JAG Headquarters  
  
Falls Church, Virginia  
  
Harm threw several pens and a notepad into his briefcase, and the Storey file. He had studied the NCIS brief intently the night before with Meg, over Chinese and some wine. The next step, as soon as she reported here from NCIS, would be to go to Norfolk and conduct the necessary crew interviews. Then it was back to Washington, and NCIS, where Harm had an afternoon appointment to examine the physical evidence of the wrecked sonar equipment. For some unknown reason for which he was extremely grateful, the destroyed array had not been scrapped yet, and so he was going to have a chance to look it over for himself.  
  
He paused a moment as he pulled the note Kevin had given him during their run together the previous morning and read it once again. It was hard enough that Jimmy was dead. If he really had been murdered.....  
  
"Penny for your thoughts, Commander."  
  
Harm looked up to see Mac standing in the doorway, and he put the note back into the breast pocket of his shirt. He was in his khakis today, and it was probably a good thing, because for an early spring day, it was unseasonably warm and not even noon yet.  
  
"My thoughts?" Harm smiled at her slightly. "I don't think a penny would be enough for 'em, Major."  
  
"Oh....what are they, designer thoughts now?" She stepped into the room and noticed that he was preparing to leave. "Did the Admiral authorize a new investigation, then?"  
  
"Took some convincing, but yeah, he did." Harm glanced around quickly for anything he'd forgotten. "I'm on my way to Norfolk shortly.....I left the file on the Kersey case on your desk....you'll be taking first chair on it since I'm going to be up to my neck in this."  
  
"You mean you don't have help on it, Harm?" Mac frowned slightly. "After all, I am your partner. We can get an extension on the Kersey case."  
  
"Oh, I never said I didn't have help." Rabb replied as he picked up his cover. "NCIS is sending Lieutenant Austin along to aid and abet me." He chuckled slightly.  
  
"You mean, NCIS doesn't want to admit to possibly dropping the ball, so they're sending you some damage control." Mac commented thoughtfully. Harm's expression turned deadly serious, very quickly.  
  
"That was way out of line, Mac. The investigation was handled out of Commander Ryan's office. Commander Ryan runs a tight ship over there. If there was something they missed, it's not because her people weren't thorough, or weren't doing their jobs. No, if they missed something, it's because whoever is responsible was very clever." He grabbed his briefcase and pulled it off the desk. "Besides, I asked for Lieutenant Austin to work with me on this. I'll need your help too, I'm sure, but the Kersey case goes to court in three days and giving you first chair means he won't get neglected while I'm working this investigation."  
  
Mac moved aside to allow him to leave the office, and Harm closed the door behind them.  
  
"Harm, I appreciate your confidence--"  
  
"I should be confident. You're a good lawyer. And you're up to speed on this, so I know I don't have anything to worry about."  
  
"That's not what I meant. I just think I should help you with the Storey case. I know that this is.....personal to you, and--" Sarah's voice trailed off as Rabb stopped abruptly in mid-stride.  
  
"Are you saying that you don't think I can be objective about this, Major?" he bristled a bit.  
  
"No, but I have to admit, I'm surprised the Admiral is giving this to you, and not someone else. Conflict of interest--"  
  
"That's uncalled for, Major." Harm's tone took on a sharp edge. "I may be friends with the Storeys, but that doesn't mean I can't look into this with a clear eye. I'm perfectly willing to accept Petty Officer Storey's death as an accident if that's what it truly was. Beyond that, all I'm after is the truth." He brushed past her now, and strode off down the hallway. Sarah watched him go, exhaling in a slow sigh. She hoped that was so, for his sake.  
  
Harm came out the front door just as Meg Austin was getting out of her Mustang in the parkade. Even from that distance, Meg could tell he was upset. Just the way he was carrying himself as he walked toward her telegraphed his mood. She came to attention as he approached and saluted.  
  
"Lieutenant Austin, reporting as ordered, Commander."  
  
Harm smiled in spite of himself, and returned the salute.  
  
"Why don't you drive, Lieutenant?" Harm suggested. He placed his briefcase and cover in the back seat of the white car.  
  
"What's this? Chauffeur service for Naval aviators now?" Meg rolled her eyes for Harm's benefit, and again, he smiled in spite of his sour mood.  
  
"That's Lieutenant Commander aviator to you." he said lightly as he tucked himself into the passenger seat of the Mustang. Meg came around and got into the driver's seat. As she fastened her seat belt, she glanced over at Harm and noticed that he was looking unhappily out the window with a frown on his face. "Is something wrong, Harm?" Austin put the key into the ignition, but paused for his reply. There was none forthcoming, and her own brows knit together in an expression of concern. "Harm?"  
  
"What?" Rabb glanced up suddenly, just realizing he was being spoken to. Meg turned the key in the ignition, and she shook her head.  
  
"What's bothering you? You're about as far away as Hawaii is from Annapolis."  
  
"Oh....nothing I can't handle." he replied, trying to sound unconcerned. Meg put the car into gear and backed up out of the parking space.  
  
"You don't sound very convincing, sir." Meg pulled out of the parkade, and into traffic. Harm sighed slightly.  
  
"Mac doesn't think I should be pursuing this investigation. Says she doesn't think I can be objective about it." He finally replied, tapping his fingers on the door. "I stomped on her for it."  
  
"Well...." Meg said slowly, thoughtfully. "Can you?" The same thought had occurred to her, but she hadn't known how to bring it up, with everything still so fresh. Harm's head snapped around and he fixed a penetrating gaze on her.  
  
"Not you, too." he murmured. "You know me better than Mac does. You know I don't jump off the deep end everytime a case involves something personal. If I did, I doubt the CAG would still be flying right now."  
  
"This isn't about the CAG. This is about someone you thought of like a brother. I'd say it's little more personal this time around." Meg took a right, heading for the highway. She glanced at Harm, saw the wounded expression on his face, and immediately regretted her words. But there was no taking them back, because if Harm couldn't handle this investigation objectively, it was going to be up to her to put on the brakes.  
  
"I will be objective, Lieutenant. Even if it kills me." Rabb finally stated, his tone perhaps a little sharper than he'd intended. He looked back out the window again, and Meg sighed, knowing she'd hurt him. Harm eventually leaned his head back against the headrest and closed his eyes, not wanting to discuss it any further. Meg respected that and remained silent; the two of them barely spoke during the entire trip to Norfolk, each lost in their own thoughts about the case....about objectivity....about each other.  
  
May 18th  
  
1040 Hours  
  
U.S.S. Duncan  
  
Norfolk, Virginia  
  
David Hines stowed his gear quickly and efficiently. He'd stayed in a hotel room during shore leave, barely leaving it at all for the night he'd spent there. His thoughts were of Jimmy, of how horrible it was for him to have died on a simple training cruise, and how much he was going to miss his friend. He tossed the empty duffle bag on his bunk and sat down beside it, putting his head into his hands.  
  
What kind of sailor are you, anyway, Hines? You know loss of life is part of the deal. He rubbed his eyes a little bit. You know, you're number could be up next. That's the risk you take. Hines sighed softly. Gonna miss you, Jimmy. You were a good man.  
  
When he looked back up, he was startled to see Commander Hollander standing there. The XO regarded him a long moment as Hines jumped up to attention.  
  
"Sir! I'm sorry, sir, I didn't realize you were there." he apologized as Hollander stepped into his quarters.  
  
"At ease, sailor." Timothy Hollander's voice was as non-threatening as he could make it. "I just wanted to know if you've heard the scuttlebutt regarding Petty Officer Storey."  
  
"Scuttlebutt? About Jim? I mean...Petty Officer Storey? No, sir, I have not. I've only arrived here myself, maybe ten, fifteen minutes ago." Hines answered as he adopted an 'at ease' stance. Hollander nodded as he drew closer, and the ease with which he'd addressed Hines initially fell away to leave a sharper, more menacing tone.  
  
"We've been ordered to remain docked in Norfolk. A JAG lawyer is coming here to pursue the NCIS investigation. Apparently Admiral Chegwidden wasn't satisfied with the job the NCIS boys did, so he's sending us his prime bloodhound, a Lieutenant Commander Rabb. Rabb's reputation is such that it will be like being fed to the sharks if he even suspects foul play. Now you know, and I know, that Petty Officer Storey's death was a terrible.....unforseeable accident. I want to make sure that this Lieutenant Commander Rabb knows the same thing before he leaves here. The captain's honor is paramount; I won't have him charged with negligence or worse when there is no blame to be laid at anyone's doorstep." The entire explanation seemed to David as if it had been spoken in a single breath, even though that wasn't the case in fact. He was nearly gasping for air just listening to it.  
  
"Yes, sir. Understood, sir." Hines finally got out, and Hollander nodded.  
  
"I know you do, son. I'm sorry you've lost your friend. But there is no blame. And I won't have anybody assigning any. We'll protect our captain.....our ship.....and our crew. Now, carry on."  
  
"Aye, sir!" Hines asserted, and he watched as Hollander exited his quarters. Instantly he slumped back down onto his bunk and threw an arm over his eyes. Somehow he had the feeling that this wasn't just going to slip away into the night and be forgotten, and he couldn't quite decide if that was a good thing, or not.........  
  
May 18th  
  
1145 Hours  
  
U.S.S. Duncan  
  
Norfolk, Virginia  
  
Meg hurried to keep up with Harm as they approached the Duncan. Normally she didn't have much trouble matching his long strides, but his irritation was evident in his quicker-than-normal pace. Thankfully the frigate's berth was not far from where she'd parked her car, so the walk wasn't a long one. She glanced at him sidelong as they drew closer to the vessel; his expression was neutral enough, but there was a determined sort of set to his jaw that she recognized, and she decided not to say anything.  
  
They reached the frigate and came up the gangway. At the top of the ramp was a commander who had the appearance of having waited somewhat impatiently for them.  
  
"Lieutenant Commander Rabb, JAG and Lieutenant Austin, NCIS. Permission to come aboard?" Harm asked, and the man across from them nodded.  
  
"Permission granted."  
  
Harm and Meg both came to attention and saluted the American flag that waved a few feet away, stepped onto the Duncan's deck and saluted the commander, who returned it perfunctorily.  
  
"Welcome aboard the Duncan, Commander.....Lieutenant." The commander extended his hand to Harm. "Commander Timothy Hollander, XO." Harm clasped Hollander's hand firmly, and upon the handshake's release, the exec turned to lead them off the deck. Harm and Meg glanced at each other briefly and Rabb raised an eyebrow. Another chauvinist who doesn't approve of women in the Navy, perhaps? "Captain O'Leary is on the bridge, and I'm sure you two are anxious to begin, so if you'll follow me...."  
  
"Yes, sir." Harm acknowledged, and the two of them followed after the XO's retreating back.  
  
"I understand your being here, " Hollander continued, glancing back at Harm briefly. "After all, this is JAG's investigation now. But I'm not sure why Lieutenant Austin's along. I thought NCIS was out of it."  
  
"I requested Lieutenant Austin's assistance in this investigation because of her access to NCIS material and familiarity with standard NCIS proceedure." Harm replied, and Meg stifled a smile. He might be upset with her just now, but she recognized the characteristic edge his voice took on whenever he felt the need to "defend" her to someone else.  
  
"So I assume the lieutenant is an expert in criminal investigative proceedure?" Hollander asked, and again Harm raised an eyebrow behind the man's back.  
  
"Sir, Lieutenant Austin served with me at JAG and I am completely confident in her abilities."  
  
"An investigator and a lawyer." The XO glanced back at Meg, and there was just a tiny bit more respect in his tone. "Sounds like you're pretty accomplished for a lieutenant jg."  
  
"Thank you, sir." Meg answered calmly, and she gave Harm a look that said, Thank you. Rabb merely smiled a bit.  
  
The three of them entered the bridge, and Hollander led them over to a tall man with dark hair that was slightly graying at the temples. His eyes were a piercing blue-gray and he took in the two investigators standing at attention with the sort of pentrating look that said he was sizing them up. Harm and Meg remained at stiff attention during this scrutiny; it was the captain's preogative whether or not to leave them there.  
  
"Lieutenant Commander Rabb and Lieutenant Austin reporting, sir." Harm said crisply. O'Leary waited just a beat longer before responding.  
  
"At ease." His voice was deep and mellow, the sort of voice most women found extremely attractive. He was third-generation Irish-American, but little other than his surname bore testimony to his heritage. "Welcome aboard my boat."  
  
"Thank you, sir. Pleasure to be aboard." Harm replied smoothly. O'Leary raised his eyebrows in the sort of curious gaze that his junior officers had learned to recognize as an expression of distaste.  
  
"Save it unless you mean it, Mister Rabb. I know you're not here to make small talk. The JAG thinks perhaps you can dig up a little dirt where NCIS couldn't, and you've brought along a shovel, I'm sure."  
  
Harm's expression remained neutral, the mark of good training and control; a simple blink of his eyes was the only indication of his surprise.  
  
"With all due respect, Captain.....if there's no dirt to dig, I have no problem with that. This investigation is not meant to be an affront to your command."  
  
O'Leary nodded slightly, a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. He might not be thrilled with being detained in Norfolk longer than he thought necessary, but he could see that this "Navy lawclerk" had a good sense of officership about him, not like some other JAG lawyers he knew.  
  
"You will have the cooperation of myself and my crew. Most of them have returned from shore leave; feel free to speak with anyone you need to. Commander Hollander will see to it that you receive anything you need for the investigation."  
  
"Thank you, Captain. First of all, I'd like to interview the bridge crew that was present at the time of the explosion. Lieutenant Austin will also be conducting interviews as well, to help the process along. If we could get set up and started with those, that would be appreciated." Harm glanced over at Hollander, who nodded.  
  
"Very well, Commander Rabb. We'll set you up in the war room. This way." Hollander brushed past them and Harm gave O'Leary a respectful nod on the way out. He held back a bit as the XO moved down the passageway, and Meg hung back with him. He leaned down and murmured quietly,  
  
"Is it my imagination, or can you cut the tension around here with the proverbial knife?"  
  
Meg nodded her agreement silently, and they picked up their pace to catch up to Commander Hollander.  
  
FOUR  
  
May 18th  
  
1415 Hours  
  
U.S.S. Duncan  
  
Norfolk, Virginia  
  
".....so we had just picked up the Dallas and were getting ready to hit 'em. Captain O'Leary was about to give the order, when all the sudden there's another six contacts on the sonar." Ensign Peter Delaney was relaying roughly the same story Harm had already heard several times today. "Nobody was supposed to be in the area at the time, and at first it kinda freaked me out. But Petty Officer Storey was pretty calm about it. Started to run a quick diagnostic on it. Captain O'Leary was over by navigation, and just as he started over to see what was going on, the sonar station just.....blew...." Delaney shook his head.  
  
"Continue, Ensign." Harm prompted.  
  
"Well...Petty Officer Storey was blown back out of his chair....so was I, actually. But the main array blew almost straight back, and he got the main force of it. I was pretty shook up; I don't remember much of what happened next......there was some yelling and some of the guys were trying to put out the fire. I remember looking over at Petty Officer Storey, and I could tell he was dead."  
  
"Was there anything else unusual about the function of the sonar before the extra bogies appeared?"  
  
"No sir, not that I noticed anyway. But the person who'd really be able to answer that is Petty Officer Storey...and he's gone." The ensign sighed a little bit. "He was one of the best sonar operators I've ever seen. Could hear jellyfish doin' the backstroke."  
  
"And Petty Officer Storey didn't seem to think anything was wrong, up to the moment the six contacts appeared?"  
  
"No, sir. Business as usual, sir....the simulation was going very well, in fact. I think if things had been all right, we'da nailed Dallas to the ocean floor."  
  
Harm smiled in spite of being a bit frustrated. So far not one interview had given him a single idea toward motive or opportunity for murder; it all seemed pretty straightforward. Jim hadn't made any enemies, had done his job well......the blast itself seems to have been just as NCIS catalogued it--an electrical failure. Harm hoped that maybe another physical inspection of the wrecked array would provide a clue. He tapped his pen absently against the tablet in his lap, and suddenly realized that Ensign Delaney was still sitting there, patiently watching him.  
  
"Thank you, Ensign. That'll be all for now." Harm stood up and stretched, and glanced at his watch. 1425. They were going to have to hustle to make that appointment at NCIS HQ to look at that array.  
  
Moments after Ensign Delaney left, Meg stepped into the room. She'd been conducting her interviews in a separate area, and Harm could tell already that she'd had about as much success as he had.  
  
"You about ready to go back to D.C.?" He asked wearily, putting his notes into his briefcase.  
  
"I'm ready for some coffee." Meg replied, rubbing the back of her neck. "This was the most unhelpful bunch of statements I've ever taken in my life."  
  
Harm glanced at her as he closed his case and reached for his cover.  
  
"So now you think there's merit to this inquiry. Did you come to that conclusion before or after you decided my objectivity was in doubt?" Meg could tell by his tone that he was still smarting from their conversation earlier in the day.  
  
"I never said there wasn't merit to it, sir." Meg snapped, a bit of fire in her blue eyes.  
  
"Just no merit in my handling it." The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them, and he turned toward the hatchway.  
  
"With all due respect, Commander, if you want to feel sorry for yourself, then fine. I came along to help you conduct an investigation. If you don't want my help, next time don't ask for it!" Meg moved past him and left the war room. Harm could hear her quick steps receding away from the room and he mentally kicked himself.  
  
She didn't deserve that, Rabb. He sighed softly to himself. Idiot. Tucking his cover under his arm, he walked out into an empty passageway.....  
  
May 18th  
  
1545 Hours  
  
NCIS Headquarters  
  
Washington Navy Yard  
  
Becca Ryan glanced at her watch briefly before resuming her impatient pacing. Her heels echoed in the evidence cataloguing room. Where was Harm? If wasn't like she had all day to wait for him. She was surprised that Meg hadn't kept him on schedule.  
  
The door on the far end swung open, and Harm burst in through it in a hurry, and he headed toward Ryan as she turned to face him.  
  
"Nice of you to grace me with your presence, Mister Rabb." There was just enough ire in her voice that Harm decided to dispense with a more familiar greeting and stick with protocol; as he drew near, he came to attention.  
  
"I apologize for the delay, Commander." His tone was sincere enough, Becca decided. She never could stay mad at him for very long, even when they'd been kids. "I had to return to JAG before coming here, and I got held up."  
  
"At ease, already." Ryan shook her head. Suddenly his words registered with her and she glanced around. "Where's Meg?" Harm shifted uncomfortably a moment.  
  
"She's retrieving Jim's service record and a copy of the autopsy. I told her I'd meet her later to go over everything. We decided it would probably be a good idea if I had my car, so she dropped me off at JAG."  
  
"I see." Ryan looked at him curiously, weighing whether or not to pursue this any further.  
  
"So, where is this thing?" Harm tried to change the subject as casually as he could. He knew he wasn't fooling Becca, but perhaps it might buy him some time.  
  
"Down here." She started off down an aisle just to her left, and Harm followed after. The aisle was lined on both sides with shelves full of evidence and confiscated goods. It emptied out into another open area, and gathered around a lab desk were the various pieces of the Duncan's destroyed sonar station. "I'm not sure what you think you're going to find, Harm." Becca murmured as she presented him with the array. "We've had master electricians go over this with a fine-toothed comb. Apparently there was some sort of power spike that caused a short. When the Duncan was under simulated battle conditions, they simulated power fluctuations that might occur after a hit, and....boom, no more sonar."  
  
Harm hunched down next to the largest, most intact part of the console and gave it a cursory inspection. At least it was intact on the outside. Its innards were a charred mess of melted components and frayed wires. The odor of burnt materials was still fairly strong.  
  
"What a mess." he murmured, discouraged. "Even if someone had tampered with it, there'd be no way to prove it." Rabb reached up to scratch the bridge of his nose. He was really beginning to wish that the day was over with. "Mac has a friend who works for EOD who owes her a few favors. Do you mind if I have him go over this?"  
  
"No.....as long as you're present while he does. This isn't classified, but I'm sure there are a few things in here that are, so no leaving him on his own."  
  
"Thanks, Becca." Harm scribbled down a couple of notes on the small notepad he had in his pocket. "We'll be back on this."  
  
"You didn't say anything stupid, did you?" Ryan suddenly asked, and Harm looked at her confusedly as he got to his feet.  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
"To Meg." Becca gave him a pointed look, and Harm's expression became distressed. "I take it that's a 'yes', Commander?" Harm glanced away momentarily, then nodded silently. "Well then, fix it. And that, " Ryan chuckled suddenly, "is an order, Mister." Harm grimaced slightly.  
  
"Yes ma'am." he replied unenthusiastically. It wasn't that he didn't want to resolve his argument with Meg; in fact, he was rather irritated with himself for provoking her in the first place. But it also irritated him that both she and Mac might be right, that he was too close to this situation and that it might affect his judgement. And it irritated him that so far nothing seemed to be justifying the inquiry at all. Harm rubbed absently at his left temple; all of this irritation was giving him a headache. "I've got to get going; I'll talk to you tomorrow about scheduling a time to bring Mac's EOD guy down here." He started back the way they'd come, and Becca shook her head.  
  
"Rabb," she murmured to herself, "you give being blind a whole new meaning." She sighed. It was obvious to half the world that he and Meg Austin were attracted to one another. Except to themselves. With Meg stationed at NCIS now, there was no longer anything in the way of a relationship for them, but somehow they seemed to feel as if they had to keep up the charade they had become so comfortable with. They skirted the issue of their feelings for one another with the deftness of a tightrope walker. Sometimes Becca just wanted to yell at them both, tell them to get a grip, and get married.  
  
She laughed as she pictured herself doing that.....she could just see the shocked expressions on both of their faces and it was a funny mental image. Maybe someday she would just have to do that, if only to indulge her sense of humor.  
  
May 18th  
  
1703 Hours  
  
JAG Headquarters  
  
Falls Church, Virginia  
  
Sarah was scanning the contents of a legal brief when there was a sudden thump, thump on the doorjamb. She glanced up to see Harm standing in the open doorway to her office.  
  
"Mind if we talk a moment?" he said quietly, and she nodded, closing the brief and leaning back in her chair. Rabb came into her office and parked himself in the chair across from her.  
  
"Anything in particular you want to discuss, or is this just a social call?" Mac smiled and Harm returned it with a small chuckle.  
  
"I just wanted to apologize for shooting my mouth off this morning." he answered seriously. "And I'm sorry I shut you out."  
  
"I'm getting fairly used to you shooting things." Sarah's expression was slightly bemused, and Harm chuckled again. Another subtle--or perhaps not so subtle--reference to his firing an automatic weapon in court.  
  
"I'm never gonna live that down, am I?"  
  
"Not as long as I'm around." MacKenzie's smile was impish. "And as for shutting me out....." She handed a folder to Harm. ".....no such luck. I got an extension on the Kersey case."  
  
"Mac, I'm impressed." Harm grinned. "And your timing couldn't be better. I need you to cash in a favor for me."  
  
"I knew this apology had strings attached." Sarah kidded. "What favor?"  
  
"Who's that guy you know in EOD? The Marine Captain that owes you for the rest of his life?" Mac laughed at that.  
  
"The rest of this life and the afterlife. Matt Rice. Why?"  
  
"NCIS still has what's left of the Duncan's sonar array in evidence storage. I'd like Captain Rice to take a good close look at it." Harm shifted a bit. "I told Commander Ryan I'd make arrangements to bring him by."  
  
"I could probably arrange that."  
  
"Good." Harm stood up and glanced at his watch. "Let me know. I have to go back to the Duncan tomorrow and finish those preliminary interviews. I haven't had a chance to talk to the Captain or the XO yet." He started out the door, then abruptly turned back.  
  
"Yes, Commander?" Mac prompted.  
  
"I really meant it when I said I was sorry."  
  
"I know." Mac smiled and went back to the legal brief. Harm ducked out of her office, and returned to his own long enough to check his messages and his "in" basket. It didn't look like things had piled up too much in his absence. He sighed softly to himself as he prepared to leave. Why was it so easy for him to apologize to everyone except Meg? He was supposed to be meeting her at her place for information-sharing and pizza, and he could see by the time that he was going to be late.  
  
"Lieutenant Commander Rabb." A familiar voice said, and Harm groaned inwardly as he looked up to see Allison Krennick enter his office. She had a sheaf of papers in her hands, and Harm wondered what ungodly assignment she had managed to dig up for him now. For someone who was involved in another department, she sure seemed to find ways to continue making him miserable. Perhaps she invented them......  
  
"Commander." he greeted her civilly.  
  
"I just wanted to talk to you about this report you submitted to me."  
  
Harm mentally backpedalled, thinking, Report? What report?  
  
"Uhm....okay." he said hesitantly. Allison's eyes took on a triumphant gleam.  
  
"You don't even remember it. Honestly, your habits are as bad as ever. Now that Lieutenant Austin is no longer here, you're dumping your paperwork on Lieutenant Roberts, I see." Suddenly Harm realized what report she was talking about, and he sighed.  
  
"He's acting as our legal aide, Commander. He's supposed to do paperwork. That's his job." Harm's tone bordered on the insubordinate, but Krennick let it slide.  
  
"Well, next time tell him to make it understandable. What is this?" She showed Harm a section of the report that listed which cases the catalogued research material was in support of. Each case was listed by docket number, except for one section that was simply listed as "LCNS". Harm frowned to himself. As far as he knew, there was nothing either he or Mac was working on under such a code.  
  
"I honestly--" Suddenly "the light came on", and Harm grinned. "LCNS--Law Clerk, Night School. Bud used these files for his law classes." Allison's eyebrows shot up in a threatening expression, and Harm shook his head. "Nothing to worry about, Commander. Mr. Roberts clears everything through myself or Major MacKenzie.....nothing classified is involved."  
  
"Had better not be, Mr. Rabb, or you are in a huge amount of trouble." Allison warned. She started for the door, then turned around again. "You look like you've had a very long day." Harm raised an eyebrow curiously.  
  
"Is it that obvious?"  
  
"It is to me." Krennick smiled slyly. "You know what's really nice after a day like today is a long, relaxing body massage." Rabb's expression became one of amused disbelief as he prepared to leave.  
  
"And you're volunteering to give it to me." It wasn't a question. He was used to fending off her advances.  
  
"I never would've mentioned it if I wasn't." Krennick's voice was husky, and unlike her abrasive personality, was actually almost seductive. Harm just shook his head in mild exasperation.  
  
"I'm afraid my day is far from over, Commander, and even if it was, I'd be lousy company." He was trying to be diplomatic.  
  
"I hardly think your company and a bottle of champagne would be distasteful." Krennick made one last attempt. Harm walked around her and stepped out into the hallway.  
  
"I'm afraid you'll have to share your champagne with someone else, ma'am. Don't forget to lock the door on your way out." With that, he headed off down the corridor. Krennick shrugged to herself as she exited Rabb's office; his suggestion of finding someone else to share the bottle with was out of the question, but at least that was better than suggesting she drink it alone.......  
  
  
  
May 18th  
  
1945 Hours  
  
Meg Austin's Apartment  
  
Meg glanced out the window of her apartment, wondering just where Harm was. It had begun to rain, a hard driving early spring shower that spattered her window with a sheet of water. He was supposed to have been there forty-five minutes ago, and she was beginning to feel an anxious knot in her stomach. Had she upset him so badly that he wasn't going to come now? She knew Harm was only reacting out of his hurt, but she hadn't been able to stop herself from lashing back. She had just wanted him to be aware of the risks involved.  
  
Suddenly a worse thought occurred to her. What if he'd been in an accident? If he was hurt......she forced the thought from her mind. Harm was just late, and there was a perfectly logical explanation for it. She wandered back to the kitchen and checked on the oven. She was keeping their pizza warm for him. Her stomach growled in protest, and she picked off a piece of pepperoni.  
  
The doorbell buzzed, and Meg hurried to answer it. Sure enough, it was Harm, thoroughly drenched and looking somewhat sheepish. Water dripped down his face from his hair, his clothes were plastered to him, and a puddle was forming at his feet. Meg couldn't help but laugh. Part of it was his appearance, yes, but the rest of it was relief that he was here, alive and whole. Here, and not with someone else like Maria Gutierrez.  
  
"You look like a drowned rat!" She gasped out between giggles. Harm smiled, and it seemed to brighten the whole room.  
  
"Gee, thanks. Hello to you, too." He stepped just inside the door, careful to stay on the tiny area rug and not track water all over her hardwood floors, closing the door behind him. "Sorry I'm late. I ran late getting back from NCIS, and then Commander Krennick caught me just as I was leaving. Wanted me to decipher Bud's logic on a report he did for me."  
  
"Oh, my...." Meg stifled another giggle. "Somehow...."Bud" and "logic" just doesn't sound right together." She shook her head as she looked Harm over again. He really was pathetically soaked. "Stay put a moment...." She hurried into the bathroom and returned with a large towel. "Here."  
  
Harm took the towel from her hand, just brushing her fingers with his own. He smiled at her again, and Meg couldn't help but return it. He wiped off his face and rubbed at his hair with the towel. They both realized that the towel wasn't going to be much help in light of the fact that his clothes were so badly drenched.  
  
"I have some sweats in my gym-bag." Harm suddenly realized. "If this lets up for two minutes, I'll go get them."  
  
Meg pointed toward the open bathroom door.  
  
"Go dry off." she instructed, and she proceeded to her closet to pull out a jacket and umbrella. "Keys?" Harm dug his keys out of his pocket hesitantly.  
  
"Meg, you don't have to--"  
  
"Yes, I do. If you get sick then this investigation gets away from you. NCIS certainly won't pursue it because their--our--official inquiry is closed. Admiral Chegwidden, I'll bet, won't feel terribly inclined to inconvenience Captain O'Leary with a third investigator. Besides, I remember what you were like the last time you had the flu. You were pathetic." She grinned at him.  
  
"Pathetic? I was dying." Harm's tone was plaintive as he took the towel and disappeared into the bathroom. Meg smiled to herself as the door closed. Granted, he hadn't been as bad as most of her brothers used to be when they were ill. And Harm had actually been very sick with his last flu; at one point Meg had nearly taken him to the emergency room when his temperature spiked at 103 and he had such an upset stomach he couldn't even keep water down. He was bedridden for two weeks and every day Meg stopped by on her way to work, over lunch, and in the evenings, nursing him back to health. She had been really worried about him at the time; she'd never seen him so ill. Still......she couldn't resist.....  
  
"Dying? What is it with men that when they get a chill and a little stomachache suddenly they're dying?"  
  
Behind the closed door came the muffled sound of Harm's laughter.  
  
"Okay, so I'm not the world's easiest patient." he admitted, and Meg laughed too.  
  
"I'll be right back." A few minutes later Austin returned with Harm's gym-bag slung over her shoulder. She shrugged out of her jacket and unzipped the bag. The first thing that assailed her was the smell of dirty socks, and she wrinkled up her nose. "Ugh.....what died in here?" Meg giggled as she pulled out the pair of sweatpants that were rolled up and tucked in the end pocket of the bag.  
  
"Hey, I never said those were clean--just dry." Harm opened the bathroom door a teeny bit and stuck out his hand to take the sweats from Meg. A moment later he emerged, clad in the sweatpants and the T-shirt that had been rolled up with them, his hair still damp. "So what kind of pizza did you get?"  
  
"Pepperoni and mushroom, and you're hopeless, you know that?" Harm followed her out into the kitchen, and he leaned against the archway while she took the pizza out of the oven and pulled out a pair of plates. He watched her move; the toss of her short blonde hair as she straightened away from the oven, the way she walked as she crossed over to the refrigerator and pulled out a pair of sodas. And he couldn't help but smile. Meg noticed the smile on her way back from the frig, and as she handed him a plate she asked, "What's so funny, Harm?"  
  
"Well, I was just thinking about how I acted earlier today, and....well....." Harm sighed softly. The strains of an old Chicago tune came to mind: 'Hold me now, it's hard for me to say I'm sorry.....' "You didn't deserve that, Meg."  
  
Meg blinked; she'd been the one to hurt him first, and he was apologizing?  
  
"I guess I rode you a little too hard on the objectivity thing." she replied lightly.  
  
Harm came away from the archway and drew closer to Meg, and he impulsively brushed her cheek with his fingertips.  
  
"I'd like to apologize for losing my temper." he murmured, and Meg glanced up at him suddenly, her cheeks flushing slightly. His touch had sent a shiver down her spine, and looking into those gorgeous hazel eyes made her breath catch in her throat.  
  
"Then go ahead and apologize, Commander." she half-whispered, unable to speak any louder above the pounding of her heart. Harm leaned down toward her, and Meg closed her eyes. She could feel his breath on her face and his hand on her shoulder. Their lips were just a breath from touching--  
  
The phone rang, startling them both, and Harm backed away hesitantly. It rang again, and Meg glanced at him briefly before brushing past him to answer it. Somehow she was simultaneously disappointed and relieved, and when she picked up the phone, she had to force her hand to stop trembling. "Hello, Meg Austin."  
  
Still in the kitchen, Harm popped open one of the sodas and took a long swallow. His insides felt like jelly; just what in the world was he thinking of? Sure, there was no longer the obstacle of him being her CO, but.....much as he wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her breathless, it still gave him a moment's pause to think about moving forward with a relationship with Meg. He wondered briefly if she shared the same doubts and desires. He heard the soft murmur of her voice in the other room as she talked on the phone, and he suddenly felt very foolish. Why he felt that way, he wasn't quite sure. Foolish for almost kissing her, or foolish for letting her go?  
  
He served up pizza on both of their plates and hunted around for paper napkins. He carried the food into the living room just as Meg hung up the telephone, and he offered her a plate.  
  
"I guess we should get started." he remarked, and Meg nodded. The spell was broken, the moment was lost; now it was back to the familiar chase of emotions barely acknowledged and feelings lurking just beneath the surface, and the work that was at hand.  
  
FIVE  
  
May 19th  
  
0625 Hours  
  
U.S.S. Duncan  
  
Norfolk, Virginia  
  
Captain O'Leary stood on the deck of his ship, drinking coffee and watching early morning harbor traffic absently. He thought again of his conversation with Amanda the day before, and he was still angry and hurt. How could she not know how much he needed her.....wanted her.....longed for her like a man dying of thirst longs for water? Ellen meant nothing to him now; they had been young and foolish kids who'd thought a roll in the hay gave them the right to be married and for awhile their physical attraction had kept them together. Eventually, however, his long absences at sea as he pursued his dreams of naval command began to strain their relationship. She wanted children; he had never seriously considered fatherhood to be an option. The rift had widened over the years until Ellen was nothing more than the respectable wife of a Navy captain, smiling and making small talk at social functions but barely speaking to him at home and certainly not sharing her bed with him.  
  
"Irreconcilable differences." he murmured bitterly to himself, taking another swallow of coffee. It was strong coffee, good and black, chasing away the slight morning chill.  
  
"Those are the worst kind, sir."  
  
O'Leary glanced back to see his XO standing just to his right.  
  
"Say again, Tim?"  
  
"Differences that are unresolvable. Those are the hardest ones to deal with." Hollander explained himself as he drew even with the captain.  
  
"Hmph." O'Leary sniffed. "And usually by the time you realize they really exist, it's too late to do anything about 'em." Both men stood silently a moment, bathed in early morning light, waiting for the sun to burn off spotty patches of fog that hung over the harbor.  
  
"We're not getting underway again today, are we sir?" It wasn't really a question.  
  
"Nope. That JAG and his NCIS sidekick are comin' back today. I logged a formal protest to Admiral Drake, but I guess he trusts Chegwidden's instincts a bit more than my bars." The Duncan's skipper chuckled a bit, and Hollander smiled too in spite of himself.  
  
"You sure those two stars on his shoulder don't have anything to do with it, sir?" The commander's tone was light, belying the tension beneath it.  
  
"I'm sure they have plenty to do with it." O'Leary drained his mug abruptly. "I wouldn't mind a couple of stars myself someday."  
  
"Fine line officer like you should see 'em before his time is done." Hollander agreed absently. His mind was on other things at the moment. "Did you approve Lieutenant Powers' transfer yet, sir?" The question caught O'Leary off guard, and he looked over sharply at his exec. "Paperwork accidentally crossed my desk before you got it, sir. Nichols left it there by mistake."  
  
"Not yet, I haven't." O'Leary replied cautiously. "She's a good officer and she's smart. I'd hate to lose her."  
  
"Hmm." Hollander disagreed, but he was too smart to ever admit it. It was a new Navy from the one he'd joined, with women fighter jockeys and women trying to push their way through the ranks. If it wasn't for the fact that he loved the sea too much to give it up, he might've resigned his commission and gone back to his father's farm in Pennsylvania. Somehow, though, the lure of the sailor's life that had drawn him to the Navy in the first place still had an attraction for him, and so he stayed. He kept his mouth shut and did his job, but that didn't mean he looked the other way or liked the direction he saw his beloved Navy taking. Women, capable as they may be, just had no place on a combat vessel, no matter what some feminist congressional lobby had to say about it.  
  
"Well, Tim, are you ready to start the business of the day? I'm sure Mister Rabb will be interrupting it soon enough."  
  
"Aye, sir!" Hollander replied, coming to attention briefly and departing. O'Leary stayed at the rail a moment longer before following after his exec. He was aware of Hollander's opinions concering Navy tradition and women in combat roles. Just another one of those irreconcilable differences........  
  
May 19th  
  
0630 Hours  
  
North of Union Station  
  
Washington, D.C.  
  
Harm rolled over as the alarm clock went off and he shut it off, moaning once in dismay. He and Meg had stayed up until late, discussing the investigation and then eventually watching a movie together. He'd been reluctant to leave, but knowing they were going to go at it again today, he finally said goodnight and came home. He practically fell into bed and hadn't moved again until just now. The sun was coming up, right through his bedroom window, and he could tell it was going to be another warmer- than-usual day for this time of year. The rain the night before had cooled things off a bit, but he had the feeling that it was going to be another humid one.  
  
He stumbled into the shower, wanting nothing more than a cup of black coffee to jumpstart his brain. What in the world had possessed them to stay up until 0230 watching The Rock? Harm ducked his head under the shower spray, letting the water revive him. Coming out and drying off, he wrapped the towel around his waist and wandered into the kitchen where he discovered that the auto-timer on his coffee maker was on the fritz. Great.  
  
There was nothing left but to bite the bullet, so to speak, and take on the rest of the day. Harm dressed quickly, once again in khakis. He hoped Becca wouldn't mind if he sent Mac along with Captain Rice instead of coming himself; he wanted to make sure he finished those interviews and then he had a more personal errand to run.  
  
Rabb grabbed a cover and his keys, and picked up his briefcase. He wondered briefly what his second encounter with Captain Michael O'Leary would be like. It was apparent that he didn't care much for JAG officers......and it was apparent that his XO either didn't care for NCIS officers, or women in the Navy.....or maybe both. He could completely understand their distaste for a second investigation into something they had been declared not at fault. He could even understand a bit of their disdain for lawyers who wore the uniform instead of being a 'regular' naval officer; he'd run into that from time to time from line officers who had been unaware of his previous carrier pilot experience. However, while the women in combat issue was often still so touchy, he couldn't understand how anyone could disapprove of a female JAG officer. What was so superior about being a male lawyer over a female one? Both Meg and Mac had proved to be excellent partners, smart and capable. After all, it wasn't like the courtroom was a raging war zone.....Harm chuckled to himself as he headed down the stairs for his car; he could almost hear Mac finish that sentence: Not unless you're in it with an automatic weapon. He was honestly going to be stuck with that one for the rest of his life.....unless he left JAG, or died, whichever came first.  
  
Turning the key in the ignition and backing the 'Vette up, he thought again about all the tension he'd sensed aboard the Duncan. Certainly there had been hostility directed toward them, but did it really have anything to do with Jimmy's death, or was it just impatience from being held up from going back out to sea? Harm mulled it over as he drove to Falls Church, and he decided he was going to pull the service records of Captain Michael O'Leary and Commander Timothy Hollander. Perhaps something useful could be gained. He picked up his cellphone and dialed quickly.  
  
"Hello? Bud? Harm." Rabb paused while Roberts' greeted him and informed him that Lieutenant Austin had already arrived. "....yeah....right. Tell her I'll be there in fifteen. Look, Bud.....I need you to do me a favor."  
  
"Another one, sir?" Bud braced himself, and Harm laughed a bit.  
  
"Nothing so demanding as the last one, Bud. I just need you to pull the service records on two men. Captain Michael O'Leary......right, capital 'O', apostrophe, capital 'L', e, a, r, y. Right. And the other one is Commander Timothy Hollander. Holl-an-der. Like the country, Bud. And if Commander Krennick wants to know what you're up to, tell her five- foot-nine and you need the files for your law classes." Harm listened for a moment, "uh huh" ing when Roberts' paused long enough to draw a breath. "I'll need 'em before I leave for Norfolk, so as soon as Research opens, get your six up there and get 'em for me." He clicked off the phone and put on his turn signal, taking a right. Maybe if he looked over their records, he'd at least have a better idea of who he was really dealing with, if nothing else.  
  
On reaching Falls Church, Harm pulled into the parkade just as Sarah was getting out of her car. He parked alongside her and she waited while he got out of the 'Vette and grabbed his things.  
  
"Heading back to Norfolk?" Mac asked as they started across the lot.  
  
"Uh huh. Lieutenant Austin and I have a few more interviews to conduct. Hey, did you get ahold of Captain Rice?"  
  
"Yes I did." Sarah replied with a smile. "He's at your disposal, Commander." Harm glanced at MacKenzie with a raised eyebrow.  
  
"My disposal? He really does owe you, doesn't he? Should I ask what for?"  
  
Sarah shrugged slightly as they entered the office and headed down the hall.  
  
"You could, but I would decline to comment." At that, Harm grinned.  
  
"Now you really have my curiosity, Major." Harm stopped at Bud's desk while Sarah proceeded to her office. However, Bud wasn't sitting at his desk......instead, he was on his hands and knees, halfway underneath it. What he was doing down there, Harm couldn't even begin to guess. Shifting his cover to the same hand that held his briefcase, Rabb leaned down and rapped his knuckles on the desktop. "Mornin', Bud." There was a sudden, loud thump. Roberts, startled, had jumped and banged his head.  
  
"Ow!"  
  
Harm stifled a chuckle.  
  
"Sorry, Bud." Harm apologized as the lieutenant j.g. backed out from beneath his desk and looked up, rubbing his head. "What are you doing?"  
  
"Dropped a tack, sir." Bud replied.  
  
"I see." Harm tried to look suitably serious, but couldn't help smiling a little bit. "Did you get those files I asked for?"  
  
"Yes, sir. Right here, Commander. Captain O'Leary and Commander Hollander." Roberts handed the folders to Harm.  
  
"Did Commander Krennick give you any grief?"  
  
"Uhm.....no sir. I waited until she left and signed them out with Lieutenant Albright."  
  
"Good thinking, Bud. You know, you can be pretty sneaky when you--"  
  
"Attention on deck!"  
  
Both men snapped to attention, Bud getting to his feet in record time, as Admiral Chegwidden entered the outer office. The Admiral was nearly to Bud's desk when he finally called out,  
  
"As you were! Walk with me, Mister Rabb." Harm left his things with Bud and quickly fell into step with Chegwidden. Once inside the admiral's office, Chegwidden nodded toward one of the chairs in front of his desk. "Have a seat."  
  
"Good morning, sir." Rabb said as he sat down.  
  
"It's only good if you've had coffee, Commander, and I haven't had any yet today." Chegwidden answered, and Harm's brows knit together in a brief frown at the admiral's shortness. Certainly Chegwidden was not given to overstatement, but he usually wasn't overly sharp with his officers, either.  
  
"I haven't either, sir, " Harm replied cautiously. "so I guess I can agree with you there." Chegwidden glanced over at the younger man with a slight scowl, and Harm shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "Something wrong, Admiral?"  
  
"Where are you on this Storey thing, Commander?" Chegwidden sat down at his desk and leaned back to gaze frankly at Harm.  
  
"Still in the preliminary stages, sir. We're not even quite finished with the personnel interviews. Lieutenant Austin and I--"  
  
"--are going to speed things up." Chegwidden finished the sentence for him, and Harm had a hard time not dropping his jaw in surprise.  
  
"Sir, I don't--"  
  
"Captain O'Leary and his crew are supposed to be participating in a wargames exercise that was planned six months ago with the British Royal Navy. Admiral Drake agreed to hold the Duncan over in Norfolk, but apparently Captain O'Leary has protested the action since it has detained them from this joint operation." Chegwidden sighed, apparently not at all pleased. "I've been informed that the wargame has been postponed for seventy-two hours. I've been instructed by Admiral Drake that if you don't have anything substantial within that period of time, he's going to turn the Duncan loose."  
  
Now Harm did look stunned.  
  
"Seventy-two hours? That's all?" he managed to get out. The admiral sighed softly.  
  
"I can appreciate your position, Commander, but that's all I could get. Admiral Drake wanted to drop the whole thing and turn 'em back to sea this afternoon. If the Duncan puts back out to sea in three days, they will have only missed the first day's worth of the wargames by the time she reaches her destination."  
  
"And if I do find something....substantial?" Harm wanted to know. Chegwidden shrugged.  
  
"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it, Mister Rabb. I don't know what's in Admiral Drake's mind any more than you do." He regarded the lieutenant commander for a long moment. "I assume that's straightforward enough for you?"  
  
"Yes, sir." Harm answered, coming to his feet.  
  
"Then you'd better get moving on it."  
  
"Aye, aye, sir!" Harm snapped to attention briefly, turned smartly on his heel, and exited. Once out of the admiral's office, he was off like a shot, moving at a rapid pace back to Bud's desk. I'm definitely going to have to send Mac to NCIS. He collected his things in a quick sweep, hardly even noticing that Roberts had returned to his search for the dropped tack, and burst into his office. Meg was already sitting there, and she looked up sharply, startled by his abrupt entrance.  
  
"What in--"  
  
"We've got seventy-two hours, Meg. That's it before the Duncan puts back to sea." Harm picked up the phone and punched a number in rapidly. Meg stared at him open-mouthed while he listened to the phone ring on the other end. "Commander Ryan, please. This is Lieutenant Commander Rabb."  
  
"Harm, why is--" Meg started, but then Harm drew in a breath as the line was picked up and she stopped.  
  
"Hello, Becca? Harm. Listen, do you mind if I send Mac down with that EOD captain?.....yeah, well, the house is on fire down here; I've only got three days before the door closes on this. I'll explain later....." Harm paused and listened while he put the files Bud had obtained for him into his briefcase. "Uh huh....I realize that's two Marines in one day. Don't go too hard on them.....right.....I think the sooner, the better. How about 1000? Good. Thanks, Becca." He returned the receiver to its place and looked at Meg. "Ready to go?" Meg was already on her feet.  
  
"Yes, sir." On their way out, Harm stopped at Major MacKenzie's office and stuck his head in.  
  
"Mac? I need another favor."  
  
"Another one?" MacKenzie's voice was teasing. "You're gonna owe me for life pretty soon at the rate you're going."  
  
"We've been given a deadline--seventy two hours." At Sarah's expression, Harm shrugged. "Came from above. Meg and I are going straight to Norfolk--I'd like you to accompany Captain Rice to his appointment at NCIS HQ to examine that sonar array."  
  
"Not a problem. As long as Commander Ryan doesn't mind, neither do I."  
  
"Already set up. 1000." Harm tapped on the door. "I'll call you later."  
  
Harm gathered Meg in with a glance, then started off down the hallway.  
  
"So....what happened?" Meg wanted to know. Harm shrugged.  
  
"Admiral Drake gave us three days before he turns the Duncan back out to sea." He glanced at her. "Some sort of NATO wargames event. And if that happens, I doubt we'll be allowed to pursue this any further in light of the official NCIS recommendation."  
  
Meg bit her lower lip a moment. At this point, they really didn't have anything to go on.  
  
"Have you considered the possibility that there may not be anything to pursue?" Her tone was hesitant, not wanting to resume their argument from the day before. However, Harm only nodded thoughtfully.  
  
"Yeah, I have." His voice was quiet. "If we don't have anything when our time is up, then I'll just have to live with it."  
  
Meg sighed softly to herself; as professionally as Harm had been conducting himself, she knew this couldn't be easy for him.  
  
"Well, let's go then, sir. If we only have three days, we'd better get going."  
  
May 19th  
  
0804 Hours  
  
U.S.S. Duncan  
  
Norfolk, Virginia  
  
The corridor was basically empty, which was good. Squaring his shoulders, a man approached the quarters of Lieutenant Amanda Powers, carrying a black bag in his hand. Powers was on the bridge, so this was the perfect opportunity. He pushed open the hatch, and stepped inside. The room was empty; Powers' roommate was also on watch, a matter of convenience.  
  
He opened her locker and shoved the bag inside, back behind her extra uniforms. It gave him a great deal of pleasure to know that she was going to get what she deserved.  
  
He slipped back out of her quarters and went on his way, whistling softly to himself. Some days were just better than others.......  
  
0910 Hours  
  
Harm and Meg came to crisp attention on the Duncan's bridge, and waited while Captain O'Leary finished instructing a junior officer. O'Leary, it seemed, was in no real hurry. Finally he turned toward them and appraised them frankly.  
  
"Well, if it isn't Mutt and Jeff." he remarked humorlessly.  
  
"Lieutenant Commander Rabb and Lieutenant Austin reporting." Harm kept his tone professional.  
  
"I'm well aware of who you are, Commander." The captain said flatly. He came closer, standing directly in front of Harm. "I assume that by now you are aware of my priorities." It wasn't a question. Harm maintained his bearing.  
  
"Yes, sir, I am." he answered evenly.  
  
"Good. Admiral Chegwidden doesn't waste any time." O'Leary turned away, leaving them at attention, his annoyance evident. "Three days from now I have an appointment with the British Royal Navy and the RAF. I don't intend to be late for it. Is that understood, Commander?"  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
"Get off my bridge." O'Leary commanded simply.  
  
"Aye, aye, sir." Harm answered, turning smoothly on his heel in a smart about-face. Meg followed his lead, and they exited into the corridor.  
  
"He doesn't like you very much." Meg observed. Harm shrugged playfully.  
  
"Can't imagine why. What's not to like?"  
  
Meg smiled slyly, and was about to reply, when Commander Hollander emerged from an adjoining passageway and nearly ran them down. The XO nodded curtly to Harm and glared briefly at Meg, then brushed past them to be on his way.  
  
"And he doesn't like you very much, either." Harm murmured as the XO hurriedly put distance between himself and the two investigators. "The 'why' is no mystery."  
  
Meg shrugged matter-of-factly.  
  
"Not the first time, Harm, and I'm sure it won't be the last. It's the curse of being a woman in the military." She swatted his shoulder. "If I recall, seems like you needed an attitude adjustment at one time."  
  
"Hmmm....." Harm inclined his head, as if thinking. "Sometimes I still do." He grinned. "Well, let's get started." He handed her half of the list of officers yet to be interviewed.  
  
May 19th  
  
0950 Hours  
  
Outside NCIS Headquarters  
  
Washington Navy Yard  
  
"Well, well, well. Major Sarah MacKenzie." Matt Rice grinned from ear to ear. Mac gave him a wise look, and Rice came to attention and saluted her, but he was still grinning. Sarah merely nodded, and Matt fell into step beside her. "I thought the Navy flyboy you work with was supposed to collect me?"  
  
"I can see that your military protocol is as sharp as ever." Sarah laughed at Rice's seriocomic salute. "And the 'Navy flyboy' is in Norfolk, pursuing his investigation."  
  
"Not that I mind that, Major." The Marine captain added. "I'd rather go along with you." Sarah shook her head slowly, a small smile coming to her face. "Well, after all, you are a Marine. I'll take you over a squid any day."  
  
Mac laughed again as he opened the front door for her.  
  
"Now that was real subtle, Matt."  
  
"Part of the creed, y'know. 'The Few. The Proud. The Painfully Obvious.' Charm school's not part of the package; you know that."  
  
"Hmmm mmm...."  
  
The two Marines, Mac in her olives and Rice in his cammies, stood out in sharp contrast to the blues and whites of naval personnel buzzing around NCIS HQ. A few of the junior officers even gave them curious stares as they passed by.  
  
"Oooh...." Rice feigned a shiver. "Swab-Land." Mac stifled a chuckle as she pressed the elevator button.  
  
"Snap to, Captain. You'll survive."  
  
Commander Rebecca Ryan was waiting in her office for them on the second floor. She had never really spoken with Harm's partner at any length, although they had met each other briefly once before. From Harm's account, Major MacKenzie was very smart, very reliable, and an excellent lawyer. But......Becca grinned to herself, she's still a jarhead. Ryan shook her head slightly. Now, now. You did promise Harm to behave yourself. Still, the smirk that came to her lips when the two Marines presented themselves could not be contained. An old naval joke came to mind: What's another name for Marine....?  
  
After introductions, Becca picked up her phone and hit an extension.  
  
"Hello, Lieutenant? Commander Ryan. In a few minutes you're going to have a couple of Marines on your doorstep. One of them is Major MacKenzie from JAG. Let them in to inspect the Duncan sonar station under my authorization." After a moment, she hung up and glanced at the waiting pair. "You're clear. Good hunting, Major. Captain."  
  
"Thank you, ma'am."  
  
"Are you serious?" Matt asked Mac on his first glimpse of the wrecked sonar equipment.  
  
"Very. This station blew up on the bridge of a frigate during a training exercise and killed the operator." Sarah surveyed the damage. "This was originally ruled an electrical malfunction, but the possibility of foul play is being given a second look."  
  
"Enter the ordnance captain who owes you so many favors you'd have to bust him back to private to collect on 'em all." Rice hunched down next to the array and prepared to go to work.  
  
"You'd better be careful what you say, Captain." Sarah smiled mischievously. "I might just take you up on that."  
  
SIX  
  
May 19th  
  
1100 Hours  
  
U.S.S. Duncan  
  
Norfolk, Virginia  
  
"Petty Officer Hines, reporting as ordered, ma'am." David Hines came to attention on entering the room, and Meg nodded.  
  
"As you were, Petty Officer. Have a seat."  
  
David did as he was told, keeping his gaze straight ahead. Meg glancd at her list; Hines was the last name on it, and a note scrawled to the right of his name indicated that he had been Petty Officer Storey's bunkmate. Meg noticed how stiffly Hines held himself. "Relax, Petty Officer; this isn't the Inquisition. It's just an interview."  
  
"Yes, ma'am." Hines nodded, but he remained tense.  
  
"How long have you served aboard the Duncan, Mr. Hines?" Meg leaned against the table, watching him curiously.  
  
"Almost a year, ma'am." David replied. "I came aboard last August."  
  
"Did you share quarters with Petty Officer Storey that entire time?"  
  
"Yes, ma'am. Petty Officer Storey had been aboard for almost two years, now."  
  
"Did you know him very well?" Meg asked sympathetically. David nodded a bit, the first natural motion he'd made since arriving.  
  
"Can't help but get to know someone when you're sharing quarters."  
  
"And you became friends, then?" Meg pushed away from the table and walked casually around the room, tired of sitting and needing to stretch her legs.  
  
"Yes, ma'am. Jim was a great guy. He was the most squared-away sailor I've ever known. And he had a great sense of humor. Always had a good joke on hand." David smiled briefly, as if recalling some hilarious tale, and he sighed.  
  
"In the days before his death, did Petty Officer Storey seem.....agitated or concerned in any way, or behave unusually at all?" Meg watched Hines as the petty officer seemed to think that through.  
  
"No.....no ma'am. Not that I noticed, anyway."  
  
"He seemed perfectly normal to you?"  
  
"Yes he did. He was looking forward to banging the Brits." Hines smiled.  
  
"Banging the Brits?" Meg gave him a curious glance.  
  
"Yes, ma'am. Sometimes the use of active sonar is called banging the- -" Hines suddenly realized the sexual overtones of what he'd been about to say, and he swallowed nervously. "It's just a phrase, ma'am."  
  
"What is your perception of Petty Officer Storey's performance of his duties?" Meg was beginning to think she was going to come up completely dry, with nothing to show for her work.  
  
"Like I said, Jim was real put-together. He was probably the best sonar man we had on board."  
  
Meg tapped her pen on the table thoughtfully. So far, nothing significant had been turned up. She hoped Harm was having better luck.  
  
"How about Mr. Storey's relationships with the rest of the crew? Did he get along with people all right? Or was there anyone in particular with whom he did not get along with?"  
  
For the first time since Meg had begun questioning him, David Hines seemed to hestitate.  
  
"Mostly, ma'am, Jim got along with the guys. He was real polite and stuff."  
  
"Mostly?" Austin prompted, picking up on the verbal clue.  
  
"Well, he didn't exactly hit it off with the skipper."  
  
"Captain O'Leary?" Why does that come as no surprise?  
  
"Yes, ma'am. Captain rides everybody pretty hard, but he seemed to really go at Jim. Especially in the last three or four months."  
  
"Did they ever have an altercation that you are aware of?"  
  
"Nothing I was witness to, but I know they have had words on occasion." Hines answered a bit more freely now. Meg nodded.  
  
"Anything pass between them, that you know of, that would make the Captain want to kill Petty Officer Storey?"  
  
"No, ma'am."  
  
"Did you ever hear anyone threaten Mr. Storey in any way?" Meg watched as Hines became visibly uncomfortable and rubbed his palms against his pants. "Petty Officer Hines?"  
  
"Uhm....yes, ma'am. I did, but at the time I didn't take it serious. I just thought it was an argument." Meg raised her eyebrows.  
  
"I thought you said Captain O'Leary and Petty Officer Storey didn't have a confrontation that you were witness to."  
  
"Captain O'Leary wasn't the one doing the threatening, ma'am."  
  
Harm leaned back in his chair, clicking his pen absently.  
  
"How would you characterize Petty Officer Storey's performance, Commander?" Rabb asked. Across the table from him, Timothy Hollander sat with his arms folded across his chest, almost as if he were daring Harm to be insubordinate.  
  
"It was adequate." the XO replied tersely.  
  
"Adequate?" Harm's eyebrows lifted slightly. "I've been looking over his service record. His scores on sim exercises are phenomenal. And in my previous interviews, I've gotten statements like--" Harm referred to his notes. "--'he could hear jellyfish doing the backstroke'. I'd say he sounds like a pretty capable sonar operator from these accounts."  
  
Hollander's jaw tightened a bit.  
  
"There is more to being a good naval officer than simple proficiency at a skill. You should understand that; you've begun to make your way through the ranks. Petty Officer Storey sometimes had a problem being a team player. He thought too much of himself and not enough about the needs of the ship." Harm held his tongue on that one, although he couldn't imagine Jim having such an attitude problem. "However, yes, he was a very good sonar operator."  
  
"In your opinion, did this apparent.....lack of team effort cause any friction between the petty officer and other crewmembers?"  
  
"At times. After all, in battle, even a supply ship is a combat vessel. We are expected to function together as a combat-ready crew. If one of us does not perform as required, he puts the lives of his shipmates in danger. It's that simple, Mr. Rabb."  
  
"Did this friction ever result in any....confrontations or hard feelings?" Harm put the pen down and leaned forward on the table, lacing his fingers together.  
  
"Nothing beyond a few words of discipline from myself or Captain O'Leary that I'm aware of."  
  
"Did you ever hear anyone threaten Petty Officer Storey or suggest physical harm in any way?" Harm pressed, feeling time slipping away from him like sand through his fingers.  
  
"Only if you consider an argument with an angry woman a threat." Hollander replied nonchalantly, a small smile crossing his lips.  
  
"Well...." Harm cocked his head slightly and cleared his throat. "....that all depends on the woman, sir. And who her father is." He watched as the smile curved more deeply along Hollander's face. "Who was Petty Officer Storey arguing with, Commander?"  
  
"Lieutenant Powers. Lieutenant Amanda Powers."  
  
"And what was this....threat that Lieutenant Powers made to Jim Storey?"  
  
"She told Mr. Storey that if....." Hollander frowned a moment as if trying to recollect. "...that if he didn't keep his nose out of her business, she was going to feed him to the sharks. Something like that."  
  
"When did this argument take place?"  
  
"Couple of days before the accident, actually."  
  
"Do you know what it was about?"  
  
"No."  
  
"And she was angry?" Harm jotted down the quote.  
  
"Hotter 'n hades, Mr. Rabb. The lieutenant is a bit of a hothead, takes things way too personally, in my opinion. How she ever made lieutenant with a thin skin like that is beyond me." Harm raised an eyebrow.  
  
"I see....." He returned to clicking his pen ever so slowly. "You don't really care for women in the service, do you, Commander?"  
  
"What's that got to do with it?" Hollander snapped, a bit of fire coming to his eyes. "I'm telling you my observations, Lieutenant Commander. You didn't ask for social commentary and I wasn't giving it to you. Lieutenant Powers lets her emotions get the best of her sometimes. Now if that happens more often with her because she's a woman, that's her problem. If it becomes a hazard to the operation of this ship, then it's my problem. For the record, Mr. Rabb, I do not approve of women in combat. But that has no bearing on what I'm telling you now."  
  
Harm weighed what Hollander was saying against the information in the XO's personnel file. Hollander was a respected right-hand man, having served beneath three captains in his varied career. His appointment to the Duncan had come a scant six months ago, at the personal request of Captain O'Leary. Apparently the two men had served together before as junior officers, and O'Leary trusted Hollander a great deal. It was entirely possible that he was speaking the truth and not just some chauvinistic tirade. But he wasn't naive enough to believe the chauvinism didn't color Hollander's perception of what he thought he witnessed between Amanda Powers and Jim. He scribbled down another quick note, a reminder, in the lower left of his legal pad before moving in a different direction.  
  
"Let's go over the actual incident. You were in the northern Atlantic, on a training exercise?"  
  
"That is correct, Commander."  
  
"Tell me from your perspective what happened."  
  
May 19th  
  
1513 Hours  
  
NCIS Headquarters  
  
Washington Navy Yard  
  
"Want some coffee?" Sarah set aside the casefile she had been studying and looked up at Matt, who'd barely taken a break from his examination of the destroyed sonar equipment.  
  
"Sure." Rice glanced up briefly. "What a mess. Y'know, it's no wonder the NCIS guys chalked this up to an electrical glitch; the entire system is shot. 'Course, I bet most of it happened after the blast, and not before." He leaned back in his chair and stretched.  
  
"So.....you don't think it was a malfunction?" Sarah got up and approached the table where he was working. The EOD captain grinned at her.  
  
"Well, let's just say the other reason NCIS didn't call it anything else is because they didn't....." Matt snipped a section of wire and put it underneath a magnifying glass. ".....quite....." He motioned Sarah in for a closer look. ".....know what they were looking for."  
  
Mac leaned over his shoulder and inspected the piece of wire. The casing was melted in places, exposing the bare wire. It looked very much like a burnt piece of wire.....except for a fine coating of a white substance.  
  
"What's that?" she wanted to know.  
  
"Well, if it's what I think it is, your Navy flyer might just have himself a real case after all." Rice was aware of Sarah's proximity, and the scent of her perfume. "I want to run this to the lab. How about we stop on the way and get that cup of coffee, Major?"  
  
"Sounds like a plan." Mac straightened away from the desk, and Matt's smile broadened.  
  
"Yes, ma'am."  
  
May 19th  
  
1530 Hours  
  
Norfolk Naval Base Briefing Room  
  
Norfolk, Virginia  
  
Harm drummed his fingers on the tabletop, looking a bit frustrated. He and Meg had opted to leave the ship for the base's mess hall for a few moments to themselves.  
  
"What've we got to work with? Almost twenty statements telling us how Jim was such a good officer, did his job, and didn't make any enemies. The sonar array registered six false bogies just moments before destruction, and nobody seems to think it was anything other than an equipment failure. We might as well turn the Duncan back to sea now and save Admiral Drake the trouble." Harm exhaled in an exasperated sigh.  
  
"Well, not everybody seems to have thought Petty Officer Storey was such a swell guy." Meg sat down across from Harm with a handful of manila folders. "My last interview was with Storey's cabin-mate, Petty Officer David Hines. Seems Mr. Storey wasn't particularly popular with one of the navigational officers, Lieutenant Amanda Powers. Apparently Hines a witness to a threat made by Lieutenant Powers to have Petty Officer Storey thrown overboard. He says that this was not the first incidence of friction between the two."  
  
Harm's eyebrows shot up in a curious expression.  
  
"I wonder if that was the same argument Commander Hollander overheard." He shuffled through his notes, producing Hollander's statement. "He characterized the lieutenant as being a 'thin-skinned hothead', and I didn't take his story very seriously, since he's not a real fan of women in the Navy."  
  
"There's more." Meg tossed a folder in front of him. "I requested copies of the bridge log and of Lieutenant Powers' personnel file. Did you know that the day of Petty Officer Storey's funeral, the lieutenant requested a transfer?"  
  
Harm leaned forward in his chair, pulling the file open and glancing through its contents, which included a copy of Powers' transfer request.  
  
"That's pretty circumstantial." Harm noted, glancing up at Meg. "Not even enough to hang our hat on."  
  
"Maintenance reports....." Meg planted another sheaf of papers in front of Rabb. "Forty-eight hours before the wargame, the Duncan was in port for a routine maintenance inspection."  
  
"No wonder O'Leary's so anxious to get back out to sea; they spent a week here in Norfolk before this happened." Harm murmured.  
  
"The sonar array passed it's inspection as being in top condition, Harm. There was no indication of electrical difficulty, and there were no repairs or modifications."  
  
Harm nodded absently as he perused the information Meg was supplying him. He noticed something else, and he pulled out a particular sheet of paper.  
  
"That same day, Jim scheduled out to another watch than he normally stood." Harm looked over the duty roster, hazel eyes rapidly scanning the chart. "It's the only time he did that during an entire month's rotation." Meg held out her hand for the roster, and she looked at it briefly.  
  
"Lieutenant Powers normally shared the same watch with him." she observed, and Harm nodded.  
  
"Okay.....so I'll agree with you that something was going on between the two of them. But we just don't have enough to charge her with jaywalking, let alone a capital crime." Rabb rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Have you interviewed the lieutenant?"  
  
"No sir, not yet. She wasn't listed as being present on the bridge at the time of the incident." Meg said, and Harm tapped his finger on the table.  
  
"That's interesting. I had two people tell me in their statements that Jim practically died in front of her." He collected the files Austin had given him and put them into his briefcase. "Nice work, Lieutenant. At least we have an idea of where to go next.....maybe. An argument and a transfer doesn't amount to much.....We'll still dead-end on this one if we can't find anything that goes to motive. I wonder how Mac's EOD pal is coming with that sonar panel." Harm glanced at his watch, then out the window. "Well.....I have to run an errand."  
  
"Now? In the middle of this?" Meg's brows knit together in a small frown. "We only have two more days, Harm."  
  
Rabb was already gathering his things together and picking up his cover.  
  
"I know, Meg. I'll be back shortly; this won't take long. When I get back, we'll check in with Mac." He smiled suddenly, that winning grin that could talk him into or out of most any situation, and Meg simply shook her head.  
  
"You say so, sir."  
  
"And then I'll take you out for dinner. Maybe a less work-intensive atmosphere will help us think " He brushed past her, and Meg caught a whiff of his cologne. She turned as he stepped out of the room, and she smiled.  
  
"You say so, sir." she murmured to herself.  
  
May 19th  
  
1600 Hours  
  
Ten Miles West of Norfolk  
  
Harm pulled his Corvette into the familiar driveway and turned off the ignition. The house was ever as he remembered it, the wisteria and honeysuckle, and the old-fashioned front porch swing. The basketball hoop over the garage door was still there, although it was badly rusted. He climbed out of the 'Vette and closed the door, recalling one-on-one grudge matches that usually ended in swinging a five year old up onto his shoulders to make a basket....  
  
Harm felt something behind his left knee, and he glanced down to find a black Labrador sniffing curiously at him. Harm crouched down to scratch the dog behind the ears.  
  
"I see you've met Kermit the Fourth." A soft, feminine voice said, and Harm straightened up to see Eileen Storey standing at the screen door.  
  
"The Fourth?" Harm chuckled.  
  
"Every black lab puppy Jimmy ever brought home has always been 'Kermit'." Mrs. Storey smiled. "He loved that first one almost as much as he loved you and Kevin." She pushed open the screen door and beckoned Harm inside. "I have some lemonade and sugar cookies."  
  
Harm smiled. Many summer afternoons had been spent at the Storey kitchen table with lemonade and sugar cookies. Tucking his keys into his pocket, he headed up the short sidewalk to the front porch.  
  
The investigation still weighed on him, and Harm was conscious of the time getting away from him. However, this was also part of the promise he'd made to Kevin, and was as important to him as the investigation itself.  
  
"I can't stay long," he explained as he closed the screen door behind himself. "because I'm just taking a break. But I've never been able to turn down your homemade sugar cookies." Harm's gaze fell on a picture on the living room mantel of himself, Kevin, and Jim from the day he and Kevin graduated the Academy. Turning away, he followed Eileen into the kitchen.  
  
"Kevin makes me bake them every time he comes home."  
  
Harm slowly sat down at the table as Eileen poured a glass of lemonade and brought it over, along with the cookie jar. He reached inside and pulled out two of the large white cookies.  
  
"I'm sorry I haven't been by sooner--" he started, but Eileen simply reached over and patted his hand in a motherly sort of gesture.  
  
"You have nothing to apologize for, Harm. You're here now, and that's good enough." Her hand lingered on his for a moment, and her eyes got a faraway look. "Carl was always real proud of you boys. Some folks thought we had three sons, the way he talked about you." Harm half-smiled, taking a bite of cookie. Carl Storey had been like a father to him. A heart attack had taken him just a little over two years ago, and the loss had been hardest on Jimmy. Almost as if she was reading his mind, Eileen nodded. "Joshua wants me to sell the house and move in with him and Darlene, and I'm considering it. I'll be all right, Harm. No need to worry about me." Joshua Ford was Eileen's younger brother, a doctor in Boston who had never quite understood Kevin and Jimmy's naval aspirations.  
  
"Well...." Harm's smile suddenly broadened. "Ace 'n I certainly made you worry enough at times! Like the time we almost burned the house down with that ridiculous chemistry set--" Both of them laughed at the memory.  
  
"Or the time you two left Jimmy at the beach because you were busy talking with that cute little blonde you both liked...."  
  
"Amy Benton." Harm's eyes twinkled. "We had a twenty dollar bet on who would date her first." Eileen raised her eyebrows, and Harm laughed. "Neither of us won. She ended up dating the captain of the basketball team."  
  
"How's your mother?" Eileen asked abruptly. "I haven't talked to her in a long time."  
  
"Fine. Mom's.....doing great. She's in Detroit now."  
  
"Hmm....I heard she was married again. I should write her a letter." They both fell silent a moment, Harm sipping at the lemonade and Eileen thinking her own thoughts. "You didn't drive all the way down here from Washington just to spend an afternoon with me." Mrs. Storey suddenly said, in a very perceptive manner. Harm blinked a moment, shifting uncomfortably in his chair.  
  
"I promised Ace I'd keep an eye out for you....." he started, but Eileen merely gave him one of those 'I-know-better' looks that she used to give him as a boy, and he stopped. "Ma'am.....Jimmy's death.....might not have been an accident. JAG's given me the investigation."  
  
Harm watched Eileen take the information in, her expression mirroring her thoughts of grief and surprise and understanding.  
  
"Is this....an official visit?" she finally asked, looking at him fully.  
  
"Not really." Harm's tone remained gentle, undemanding. She had already suffered so much loss. "I really did promise Ace to look in on you. Where is he, anyway? He told me the Seahawk wasn't due to ship out for another couple of days."  
  
"He....went to Arlington this morning, and hasn't come back yet." Mrs. Storey's voice held a note of concern. "Those two may have had their fair share of sibling rivalry, but Kevin was proud of Jimmy." She reached over and took Harm's hand again. "Do you think that someone killed him, Harm?"  
  
"I don't know." Rabb admitted honestly, for the first time. "I don't really have any evidence to back it up; just a few suspicions. And there's a big possibility that it really was just an accident." He exhaled slowly, gathering his thoughts. "You don't know of any reason why anyone would want to kill Jimmy, do you?"  
  
"No! No, of course not." Eileen bit back her tears, knowing that Harm had to ask. "Jimmy was a good boy, and I know he only ever wanted to make Carl and Kevin and you proud of him."  
  
"I know." Harm felt the pain of it himself, and he looked away a moment. "I know."  
  
"If somebody killed my Jimmy....Harm, you'll find out who did it, won't you?" Eileen unconsciously squeezed his hand tighter.  
  
"Yes, ma'am. If that's what happened, then I'll find a way to prove it."  
  
SEVEN  
  
May 20th  
  
0600 Hours  
  
U.S.S. Duncan  
  
Norfolk, Virginia  
  
Amanda Powers worked her hair up into the tight regulation bun she usually wore it in, her fingers deftly poking in the bobbypins. Her bunkmate, Kate, was tying her shoes when one of the laces broke. Kate swore in frustration, then opened her locker, searching for extra laces.  
  
"Amanda....I don't have any extras. Do you?"  
  
"Maybe. Check in my locker." Powers reached over to open the door, and Kate began hunting for a set of laces. A few moments later, a black bag fell forward and landed on the floor.  
  
"What's this?" Kate asked, handing the bag to Amanda.  
  
"I don't know....I've never seen it before." Powers stuffed one last pin into her hair and took the bag, dumping its contents out onto her desk. What they saw left them both speechless.  
  
"I think......I think we'd better report this to the Captain." Kate said hesitantly. Amanda knew she was right, but still.......a chill swept up her spine.  
  
"All right.....I......go ahead, Kate."  
  
Her desk was covered with the makings of a detonator.....  
  
May 20  
  
0700 Hours  
  
JAG Headquarters  
  
Falls Church, Virginia  
  
Sarah hurried into the office, nearly mowing over Bud in her haste to cross the common area and barge into Harm's office.  
  
"Where in the world have you been?" she demanded.  
  
Harm glanced up curiously from his desk; after a quick stop to check his mail and messages, he was putting together his things for the return trip to Norfolk.  
  
"Good morning to you, too, Mac." he replied. "Was there someplace else I was supposed to be?"  
  
"I tried calling you until eleven-fifteen, and even paged you twice." Mac pressed, and Harm grinned suddenly.  
  
"Ohhh. Well, the answering machine needs a new tape, and I didn't have my pager with me." He tapped his briefcase. "Left it. And.....turnabout's fair play, Mac. When I tried paging you earlier in the evening, I couldn't get you either." A bit of color appeared in Sarah's face, and Harm's grin broadened. "Captain Rice take you out last night as part of his pennance to the incomparable Major MacKenzie?"  
  
"That, Commander, would be none of your business." Mac answered lightly, but the slight blush remained.  
  
"I wanted to check in with you to see if you'd found out anything before I went for dinner, but obviously I was out of luck." Harm picked up his cover. "And if you were trying to reach me, then I assume you did find.....something?" His voice took on a hopeful note as he toyed with the hat absently.  
  
"As a matter of fact, we did. Some small parts of the sonar's wiring was coated with a substance that could have been overlooked as melted wire casing or plastic parts. But lab analysis revealed it to be something else entirely." Mac handed Harm the lab report, and he set aside the hat to flip open the folder eagerly and scan its contents.  
  
"Wait a minute......TRX? Isn't that stuff still considered to be in its developmental stages?" He glanced down the rest of the report. "This is highly advanced explosives work....it wouldn't have taken much of a charge to do the kind of damage it did to that sonar station."  
  
Just then, the door swung open again and Meg hurried in.  
  
"Sir, we have to get down there right away." Her tone was urgent enough that Harm stood up instantly.  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"Lieutenant Powers was arrested this morning and placed in the brig. Materials for a detonator were found in her quarters."  
  
"Let me guess.....TRX, right?" Harm opened his briefcase and put Sarah's report into it.  
  
"Yeah, how did you know?"  
  
"Mac's Marine buddy found traces of it in the sonar wreck." Harm picked up his things and led the other two from the office. "Mac....there's gotta be just a handful of places that are even making the stuff. I want to know how unclassified naval personnel could get their hands on it."  
  
"I'm already on it." Sarah answered. "I've got Bud helping me check defense contractors."  
  
"Good. Meg and I'll go back to Norfolk and have a chat with Lieutenant Powers."  
  
"You know, you never did answer my question." Mac said as she crossed over to the coffee machine. Harm gave her a puzzled frown, already halfway across the common area. "About where you were?" Sarah prompted, and Harm merely smiled. "All right, Harm, if you must know, I took Matt to dinner last night for the work he did at NCIS."  
  
"Chez Matin." Rabb replied lightly, and held open the door for Meg to step through. "Satisfied, Major?"  
  
"Fancy place for dinner alone." Sarah remarked offhandedly, a teasing glint in her eyes.  
  
"Who said I was alone?" Harm stepped through the door before MacKenzie could say anything else, and came alongside Meg.  
  
"What was that about, sir?" Meg asked, a smile on her face.  
  
"Mac tried to call me last night about the TRX in the sonar array." An ensign passed them, giving up a salute, and Harm returned it perfunctorily. "With you working this investigation, I wasn't too sure how it would look for me to be romancing you in the middle of it."  
  
"Romancing me? Is that what you were doing, sir?" Meg met his gaze as she unlocked the passenger door of her Mustang. Harm looked down at her a moment, into those trusting blue eyes, and then he smiled suddenly.  
  
"Well, Lieutenant, if I'm not, I'm getting warmed up to the idea." Harm ducked into the car, and waited for Meg to unlock her door and join him inside. Meg didn't quite meet his gaze as she put the key in the ignition and turned it. Harm merely smiled again and he pulled Sarah's report out of his case to read on the drive down. "You know, there's something I don't like about this already."  
  
"And what's that, sir?" Meg wasn't quite sure if she was glad for the change of subject or not. But she just pulled out into traffic and then glanced briefly at him.  
  
"They found this stuff in her locker this morning?"  
  
"Yes, sir; the report was filed at 0645 today." Harm shook his head.  
  
"Don't you find that a little....convenient? I mean, they were still at sea for another twenty-some hours before making port. More than enough time to dispose of the evidence. Any perpetrator with half a brain would have dumped that stuff over the side long before they reached Norfolk."  
  
"Maybe. Unless she wasn't finished with it." Meg replied. "There was enough plastic explosive in there for another bomb."  
  
"You think there might have been another 'accident' during the NATO wargames?" Harm wondered aloud.  
  
"I don't know....maybe."  
  
"Smells like a setup to me." Harm murmured, looking back over the report again.  
  
"I don't get it, Harm. This is our first major break in this investigation, and you're acting like you're disappointed." Meg glanced at him curiously as they came to a stop at a traffic light.  
  
"I'm not disappointed. I just want to make sure that if we're going to accuse someone of murder that we've got the right person." Rabb replied, looking back up at her. "At least this might buy us some time....a suspect and evidence might be enough to get Admiral Drake to reconsider cutting the Duncan loose."  
  
"I wouldn't count on it, sir." The light turned green, and Meg made a lefthand turn. Harm sighed.  
  
"Neither would I."  
  
May 20th  
  
0930 Hours  
  
Brig, Norfolk Naval Base  
  
Norfolk, Virginia  
  
"Commander Rabb!"  
  
Harm turned around, the voice stopping him just short of the entrance to the brig, and Meg did likewise. His eyebrows went up and he shot her a glance as they recognized Captain O'Leary bearing toward them like a man on a mission. As the man drew nearer, Harm and Meg both drew themselves into a stance of attention and offered him a salute. O'Leary ignored the salute. "As you were."  
  
"Captain. Surprised to see you down here this morning."  
  
"And why is that, Commander? One of my best navigators is being detained here and I think I have the right to know what's happening."  
  
"What's happening is that Lieutenant Austin and I are going to interview Lieutenant Powers, since we didn't have an opportunity to do so earlier." Harm answered evenly.  
  
"I wasn't aware Lieutenant Powers was on your list of interviewees. I gave you access to the personnel listed on the bridge duty roster for the watch in which the accident occurred. I don't believe her name was on it."  
  
"So I've noticed." Harm said lightly, trying to keep his tone from being accusatory. "However, I have statements from two of your people who say that she was on the bridge that day."  
  
"What are you insinuating, Commander?"  
  
"Nothing, sir. Just making an observation that if Lieutenant Powers was standing watch at the time of the accident, either her name was omitted from the roster or it was removed."  
  
"Has Lieutenant Powers been assigned counsel, Mister Rabb?" O'Leary changed the subject, a note of annoyance in his voice.  
  
"She hasn't even been charged with anything yet, Captain. That won't happen until we complete our investigation." Harm watched the other man closely. A slight expression of disdain crossed O'Leary's face, and then he nodded curtly.  
  
"I expect your investigation will be over soon, Commander." O'Leary turned away and strode off, obviously not very happy.  
  
"What was that about?" Meg wondered aloud. Harm shook his head slightly, frowning.  
  
"I haven't got the slightest idea." He opened the door for Meg. "Let's go."  
  
The first thing that struck Harm about Amanda Powers was her height. She was at least two inches taller than Meg, and Meg was tall. The second thing was her eyes. She had those pale blue-gray eyes that always looked like they were staring right through you and made you wonder what was going on in the brain behind them.  
  
"Sir!" Powers snapped to attention as he stepped into the cell with her, Meg following after.  
  
"As you were, Lieutenant." Harm said kindly, watching as Powers sat down on the bunk. "I'm Lieutenant Commander Rabb, and this is Lieutenant j.g. Austin."  
  
"You're the JAGs that were assigned to look into Petty Officer Storey's death, aren't you?" Amanda looked from one to the other, as if sizing them up. Harm nodded as he regarded her.  
  
"Yes we are. We'd like to talk to you about the explosion....and the gear that was found in your locker today."  
  
"I've never seen that bag before in my life." Powers asserted immediately, looking at him with those eerie eyes. Of course, it was just what anyone would have expected her to say, but there was something in her voice that caught Harm's attention. He wasn't sure just what it was, but it sent a warning flag up in his mind.  
  
"You don't have any idea how it got in your locker, ma'am?" Meg asked now, and Powers shook her head.  
  
"None. Well, other than the fact that someone put it there."  
  
"And you have no idea who that someone might be?" Austin continued. Again, Amanda shook her head.  
  
"It's my understanding you were on the bridge when the explosion occurred." Harm commented, withdrawing a xerox of the duty roster. "We have sworn statements from two of your crewmates that indicate you were present. And yet your name is not on the duty roster for that watch." Powers looked at the xerox, then back up at Harm, her expression becoming somewhat uncomfortable. Finally, she nodded affirmatively. "You were on the bridge?"  
  
"Yes, sir. Jim....." The navigator hesitated, swallowing. "When the sonar blew up, it....threw Jim backwards....he fell in front of me. I could tell....he was dead. His eyes were so empty...."  
  
"We also have statements from crew who witnessed you and he having an argument a day or two before the incident, in which they claim you threatened to have Petty Officer Storey killed. Is that true?" Harm kept his tone level, as non-threatening as possible.  
  
"Yes, we did have an argument." Amanda admitted.  
  
"Did you threaten Petty Officer Storey?"  
  
"Yes, sir, but....I was angry, sir. I didn't mean anything by it. Haven't you ever said anything in anger that you regretted later because you never meant it?"  
  
Harm merely raised an eyebrow at her.  
  
"What was the argument about, Lieutenant?"  
  
"With all due respect, sir, that's none of your business." Powers snapped defensively. "It was personal." Her sudden change in demeanor caught Harm by surprise, and he frowned.  
  
"Lieutenant Powers, whether or not you are charged with a capital crime rests on our investigation. You have nothing to lose and everything to gain by being honest with us." Meg interjected seriously. Powers glanced down, suddenly uncertain.  
  
"Why were you and Petty Officer Storey arguing?" Harm asked again, his tone gentler.  
  
"I...I can't tell you." Amanda said now, and her voice was barely audible, not the confident bearing she had maintained just moments ago.  
  
"You can either tell us now, or you can tell us on the stand." Harm replied, still keeping his voice even. "If this goes to court, that argument will go to motive."  
  
"I'm sorry, sir. I can't tell you." Amanda shook her head. Harm decided to take a different approach.  
  
"I also have here a copy of your transfer request, filed the day of Petty Officer Storey's funeral. Why did you apply for a transfer? You've only been aboard the Duncan for six and a half months. It's a good navigational post, and a good opportunity for you, Lieutenant. Why do you want to leave it?"  
  
Now Amanda positively closed up, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. Harm glanced at Meg, and he finally stood up.  
  
"I'm going to go find the head." he addressed Meg briefly. "I'll be back in a few moments." His expression said, 'see what you can do with her'." Austin nodded in acknowledgement.  
  
"Yes, sir." Meg regarded Powers for a moment before speaking. "You know if charges are filed against you, they'll be for murder one."  
  
"I didn't kill anyone!" Powers exclaimed. "Those things were planted in my locker."  
  
"Commander Rabb seemed to think so, too." Meg confirmed, watching the navigator closely. "What are you afraid of?"  
  
Amanda sighed softly, and when she looked up at Meg, all of her efforts at being cool and in control had melted away.  
  
"I'm afraid I'll be next, Lieutenant."  
  
May 20th  
  
1130 Hours  
  
Norfolk Naval Base  
  
Norfolk, Virginia  
  
"That's it?" Harm sighed, disappointed. "She wouldn't tell you any more than that?" He and Meg were walking side by side down the long piers, among the docked warships. A little further out, the U.S.S. Reuben James was putting out to sea, the mid-morning sun glinting off her hull.  
  
"She's scared, Harm. In fact, she was almost glad to be charged with possession of illegal contraband and sabotage."  
  
"Only thing I could think of to hold her in the brig until we sort this out. What've we got on the contents of the bag?"  
  
"The papers were detailed schematics of the sonar array. There was enough TRX left over, like I said before, to make another bomb. And the gloves have been positively identified as belonging to Lieutenant Powers. In fact, those gloves were the only items in the bag that had any fingerprints on them--all belonging to the Lieutenant. She says she misplaced that pair and had believed them lost."  
  
"And the key to this whole thing is what she's not telling us, I can feel it." Harm folded his arms across his chest as they walked.  
  
Before Meg could comment, Harm's pager went off, beeping insistently at his hip. Unclipping it from his belt, Harm checked out the message: TRX MAKER, CALL ASAP BUD.  
  
"Who is it?" Meg asked, shading her eyes from the sun with her hand as Harm turned around.  
  
"Bud. He may have a line for us on our TRX seller."  
  
May 20th  
  
1145 Hours  
  
Brig, Norfolk Naval Base  
  
Norfolk, Virginia  
  
Amanda could hear someone coming, and she wondered briefly if it was those two JAG lawyers coming back for another round. She stood up and came to the front of her cell, and was more than surprised to see Michael-- Captain O'Leary--standing there. A smile curved his lips as he came into view.  
  
"Sir, what are you doing here?" Powers asked. O'Leary's smile faded.  
  
"I came to see you, Amanda, to find out what's going on."  
  
"What's going on is probably the preliminary shots leading up to my court-martial, sir. If you had just given me my transfer--"  
  
"Court-martial...." The truth of it hit O'Leary, and he sighed softly. Impulsively, not particularly caring whether or not anyone saw him, he reached a hand through the bars toward her. Powers hesitated a long moment, then took his hand in hers, holding it long enough to squeeze it once. Then she let him go, and returned to her bunk and sat down. "They can't do this to you, Amanda. You didn't do anything." Powers was surprised by the depth of passion in the Captain's voice, a contrast to his usually calm demeanor.  
  
"They can....and unless something changes, they will." She shrugged, trying to be brave about it.  
  
"Idiot lawyers. Can't leave well enough alone." O'Leary muttered.  
  
"Michael....Sir, it's probably not a good idea for you to be here." Amanda said softly. She might have the need to make her own way without him, but she didn't want to put him at risk, either. "This...could get real ugly. I don't want you to get caught in the crossfire."  
  
"Amanda, I wouldn't be here if I didn't want to be." The captain regarded her compassionately. "Out of the frying pan, and into the fire, isn't that the expression, Lieutenant?"  
  
EIGHT  
  
May 20th  
  
1215 Hours  
  
Norfolk Naval Base  
  
Norfolk, Virginia  
  
"Talk to me, Bud." Harm cradled the phone between his shoulder and chin as he prepared to jot down notes. "What've you got?"  
  
"Four defense contractors are currently creating and testing TRX for military uses. Of these, only two have actually ever shipped any. And one of them, Benton-Hayes, reported a stolen case of the base-material for the explosive to N.I. nearly a month ago."  
  
"Naval Intelligence? I bet they'd find it pretty interesting that some of their stolen property ended up in a locker on a frigate!" Harm had to raise his voice to be heard above the racket of a crane in operation in the next berth from the Duncan.  
  
"Yes, sir, I imagine so." Roberts agreed.  
  
"Good work, Bud!"  
  
"Thank you, sir."  
  
"Is Mac there?" Harm covered his other ear with the palm of his hand, trying to hear the lieutenant j.g.  
  
"No, sir. She went to Benton-Hayes to see what she could find out; they're located in Perry, Virginia."  
  
Harm nodded to himself. Perry was a good three hours' drive from Falls' Church; it would be awhile before he heard anything substantial from the major.  
  
"Let me know if she checks in!"  
  
"I will, sir."  
  
Harm clicked off the cellphone and stashed it, along with his notepad, into his briefcase. On his right, Meg looked at him curiously.  
  
"So the TRX was stolen!" she remarked, also raising her voice to be heard. Harm frowned a moment, and motioned for her to walk with him. They started back the way they'd come, putting some distance between them and the noisy machinery.  
  
"What?" he asked as they picked up their pace a bit.  
  
"I said, so the TRX was stolen." Meg turned her face toward him as she spoke so he could hear her.  
  
"Yeah, looks that way." he agreed. "Mac's checking out the company, Benton-Hayes, down in Perry." Rabb looked at his watch. "You hungry? I wouldn't mind getting some lunch." He inclined his head slightly. "I know a place down here that actually makes those 'Texas pizzas' of yours."  
  
"Are you buyin', sir?" Meg smiled impishly. Harm raised an eyebrow curiously, then nodded. "Sounds like a deal to me."  
  
May 20th  
  
1225 Hours  
  
U.S.S. Duncan  
  
Norfolk, Virginia  
  
Gloved hands quickly snipped the lengths of wire necessary for his creation. TRX and wire and an arming device were being fashioned into a deadly message.  
  
It was a shame that Petty Officer Storey had to be killed. A true loss, actually. But there had been no choice and now there was no going back. There would only be pressing on ahead, to a Swiss bank account and someplace much warmer than Virginia. Even good men die in combat sometimes, he reminded himself.  
  
He didn't figure the Duncan would remain in port much longer. They would only be a day late to their rendezvous, and with his main obstacles out of the way, his objective remained intact. He paused in the creation of the bomb, listening. When the footsteps he'd heard passed by, he resumed his work. He worked with care and patience, and when he was ready, he placed the components of his bomb into a black bag and prepared to deliver his deadly cargo to its final destination.  
  
Almost home....now, almost home. Jim, buddy, wherever you are, I wish you well.  
  
May 20th  
  
1430 Hours  
  
Arlington Cemetery  
  
Arlington, Virginia  
  
Harm walked slowly over to where Kevin Storey stood with his hands clasped behind his back, gazing out over the endless sea of grave stones and white crosses.  
  
"They seem to go on forever." Kevin remarked absently as Harm drew up alongside. Harm nodded silently, his hands in his pockets, and he looked down at the marker before them....Jim's marker. He looked at the dates carved into the solid white granite, the cold hard stone declaring the finality of their loss. "Maybe they will, someday."  
  
"As long as there are men and women who die with honor." Harm replied gently.  
  
"That's just it, Harm. Jimmy didn't die for anything. Not for any noble causes, not even for his country, really. He died either because he was in the wrong place at the wrong time, or for somebody's convenience." Kevin looked up at Rabb, his eyes full of pain. "Where's the honor in that, Harm? Where's the honor of dyin' for dying's sake?"  
  
"Maybe...." Harm drew in a deep breath. "Maybe the honor doesn't come from his death, Ace, but from his life." He lifted his head and returned Kevin's gaze, and Storey's eyes filled briefly. Kevin blinked back the tears, and he nodded.  
  
"Yeah. Yeah, I guess you're right." They stood there a long time, saying their goodbyes together; the Seahawk sailed in the morning and life would carry on. Kevin glanced at Harm. "You'll let me know how this all turns out, won't you, Harm?" Rabb nodded, realizing how hard it must be for Kevin to have to leave without knowing for certain if Jim's death was murder or not.  
  
"I will, Ace." He put his hand on Kevin's shoulder. "You take care of yourself, okay?" Storey nodded wordlessly, and Harm's grip on his shoulder tightened briefly.  
  
Harm took his time walking back to his car; his expression was faraway, his mind in another time and place. As he approached the parked 'Vette, he looked at the waiting figure of Meg Austin, who was standing quietly beside the car.  
  
"You didn't have to come out here with me, you know." he said apologetically. After lunch he'd told Meg that he needed to talk to Kevin before he left, and she'd offered to come along. He'd tried to talk her out of it, but was now glad that she'd insisted on coming.  
  
"Yes I did, sir." she said softly. Harm glanced away a moment, obviously uncomfortable. "You want to talk about it?" Meg watched as Harm drew in a slow, measured breath. He'd turned down her earlier offer to talk at his apartment because he'd told himself he had to remain objective. Now, looking into her expression of quiet concern, he felt the guard over his emotions begin to fall away.  
  
"You were right before, you know....about Jimmy being like a brother to me. He started college...Business Administration. He finally decided the degree just wasn't what he wanted, and he figured he'd make out better in the Navy. The day he enlisted he told me that he hoped I was proud of him for not giving up on making something of his life."  
  
"It's not your fault, Harm. You didn't kill him." Meg replied gently, reaching out on impulse to briefly touch his arm.  
  
"I know that. You know, it's funny...." Harm shook his head. "I hadn't seen Jimmy in quite awhile, but--"  
  
"You miss him." Meg finished the sentence for him. Harm met her gaze, and he nodded.  
  
"Yes, I do." he admitted. "And I want to know the truth, Meg. I owe him--" He glanced back toward Kevin. "--at least that much." Harm pulled off his cover and tossed it into the back of the Corvette.  
  
"You don't think Lieutenant Powers had anything to do with it, did you?"  
  
"Well...I didn't say that, exactly. I still think that gear was planted in her locker." Harm ducked his tall frame into the sports car and waited for Meg to settle herself into the passenger seat. "But she's also holding out on us, and I want to know what it is, and why."  
  
May 20th  
  
1535 Hours  
  
Benton-Hayes Incorporated  
  
Perry, Virginia  
  
Sarah entered the corporate offices of Benton-Hayes, removing her cover as she did so. The lobby was impressive; the company certainly raked in enough money as a defense contractor to make a statement with its decor. It was tasteful, if expensive, and she glanced around curiously at some of the art deco pieces as she approached the receptionist's area in the corner by the inner doors.  
  
"Good afternoon." The woman behind the desk greeting amicably. "May I help you?"  
  
"Yes." Mac replied, tucking her cover away. "Major MacKenzie, Judge Advocate General's Corps, here to see Mr. Alexander Benton." The receptionist frowned, and started flipping through a book on her desk.  
  
"Do you have an appointment, Major?" she asked frostily, and Sarah also frowned momentarily, surprised by the woman's sharp change in demeanor.  
  
"No, I don't. It's in regards to the theft he reported to Naval Intelligence a few weeks ago." That brought an even swifter reaction; the receptionist looked up at her sharply and narrowed her eyes slightly, as if sizing MacKenzie up. She then turned away to a nearby phone and punched an extension. Sarah raised her eyebrows slightly, wondering just what was so difficult about following up on a reported theft. She rested her hand on the counter that ran around the receptionist's desk, and waited while the other woman talked briefly on the phone. Finally the receptionist hung up and turned back toward her.  
  
"Second elevator on the right.....sixth floor. The secretary there will direct you."  
  
"Thank you." Mac answered with an ease she didn't feel.  
  
When she stepped off the elevator the major was faced with another receptionist's station, only the counter area came nearly chest-high and the figure seated at the desk was a man.  
  
"Major MacKenzie." he greeted her, and she was struck by how deep his voice was. Bass singer, for sure. "Have a seat. Mr. Benton will be with you shortly."  
  
Sarah settled into one of the chairs that lined the near wall, her hands in her lap toying with her cover. Somehow I think I'm going to be waiting awhile.....  
  
May 20th  
  
1800 Hours  
  
U.S.S. Duncan  
  
Norfolk, Virginia  
  
Timothy Hollander nursed along a lukewarm cup of coffee in the officers' mess, perusing the sports page from the late edition of the local newspaper. That was one thing about being stuck in port; heck've a lot easier to pay attention to the Pirates' box scores.  
  
Hollander glanced up as Captain O'Leary entered, and he started to rise, but O'Leary waved him back into his seat.  
  
"At ease, Tim." O'Leary poured himself a cup of coffee and settled into the chair opposite his XO. "Anything on the front page?" Hollander shook his head.  
  
"No sir. Those JAGs are doin' a good job of keeping a lid on this so far. Heaven help us if the press gets ahold of her."  
  
The captain sipped at his coffee, regarding Hollander curiously.  
  
"Couple days ago, you wanted me to ship her out. Now you're worried about her getting blasted by the media?" He couldn't quite keep the edge out of his voice, and the commander noticed it.  
  
"Sir, a couple of days ago, I wasn't concerned about your career going belly-up because of a skirt." The exec said bluntly.  
  
"That was uncalled for, mister." O'Leary bristled. Hollander calmly swallowed more coffee.  
  
"Is it, sir? It's not such a secret, you know. And you don't think that JAG lawyer's gonna find out sooner or later about your...indiscretions? Either way, it's not gonna look too good for you." He sighed. "Look, Mike, we've known each other a long time. We both know how this game is played."  
  
O'Leary glanced away, his ire cooling somewhat in the face of practical reality. He set aside his mug and exhaled slowly.  
  
"Yes, we certainly do, Tim. We know how it's played...how it's won and how it's lost."  
  
"Shoulda sent her packin' while you had the chance." Hollander asserted. "Would've been better for the ship....would've been better for you."  
  
"You think so? Is that what you would have done in my position, Commander?" The captain's tone was again a bit sharp.  
  
"Never would've been in your position, sir." Hollander replied, scraping back his chair against the deck as he rose. "But for the record....I'da sent her to a different command long before now, Captain. Little less political ballast on the career ship, sir." With that, Hollander exited the room, leaving Captain Michael O'Leary with a rapidly cooling cup of coffee, some very warm passions, and a chilling dose of reality.  
  
May 21st  
  
0800 Hours  
  
JAG Headquarters  
  
Falls Church, Virginia  
  
Harm flipped through the mail that had been accumulating in his "in" basket; the pile was getting a bit bigger now. He pulled out a particular envelope and opened it, scanning its contents, then tossed the whole mess back into the basket with a digusted sigh. He and Meg hadn't come up with anything further on their return visit to Lieutenant Powers in the brig, and when Mac had called, she had come up dry as well. Turns out Alexander Benton had done more stonewalling than the average government official in an election year. Which made him all the more curious about how that stolen explosive had ended up aboard the Duncan to begin with.  
  
"And the world may never know." he murmured to himself.  
  
"May never know what, sir?"  
  
Harm looked up to see Meg standing there, and he motioned her into the office.  
  
"The truth about Jim Storey. Because unless a miracle happens to change Admiral Drake's mind, today is our last day." Harm shook his head, running his fingers through his short hair. "Who am I kidding, anyway?"  
  
"Maybe no one." Austin answered seriously. "The TRX proves it was murder, Harm."  
  
"But not that Amanda Powers is the killer. If all we have to take into court with us is--"  
  
"Commander Rabb?" Another voice interrupted, and Harm glanced past Meg to see the Admiral's yeoman standing there.  
  
"What is it, Tiner?"  
  
"Admiral Chegwidden would like to see you ASAP, sir." Tiner delivered his message, and Harm nodded. What's on his mind so early in the morning? he wondered to himself.  
  
"I'll be right there, Tiner." Rabb looked at Meg curiously as the yeoman headed back across the common area.  
  
"Good luck, sir." Meg said as she settled into one of Harm's office chairs. Harm shrugged slightly as he made his way out of the office. When he arrived outside the admiral's office, Tiner was already settled back at his desk, and the yeoman nodded toward Chegwidden's door.  
  
"Go right on in, sir, he's expecting you."  
  
Harm nodded and slipped into the admiral's office, closing the door and coming to attention a few steps within. Admiral Chegwidden was standing at his window with a cup of coffee, gazing out at the early Virginia morning. Harm couldn't see from his vantage point what the admiral was looking at; but it happened to be a hummingbird that was haunting the honeysuckle just outside the building. The bird flitted away, and Chegwidden turned around, taking a sip of coffee. He came around to the front of his desk and set down the mug, then leaned against the desk's front edge, his arms folded across his chest.  
  
"You wanted to see me, sir?"  
  
"At ease, Commander." Chegwidden gazed at Harm curiously as his junior officer smoothly took an 'at ease' stance. "I did indeed. Seems like you lead a charmed life, Mister Rabb."  
  
"Sir?" Harm's brows knit together in a slight frown of puzzlement.  
  
"Looks like you're gonna get your wish, Commander. Admiral Drake has decided to play ball; he's holding the Duncan over until your prosecution is complete."  
  
"Prosecution?" Harm was really confused now. "Sir, all we have against Lieutenant Powers is a handful of circumstantial evidence that'll never--"  
  
"Curve ball, Mister Rabb. You have a confession." Chegwidden reached around to his left and flipped open a manila folder that was just behind him and withdrew a facsimile that had just been delivered to him not ten minutes before Tiner had summoned Harm to his office. He proffered the sheet, and Harm stepped forward and accepted it. The admiral watched as Rabb's hazel eyes quickly scanned the fax.  
  
"Captain O'Leary?" Harm's tone echoed his surprised expression. "Admiral....when did this happen?"  
  
"Sometime last night." Chegwidden replied, straightening away from his desk and walking around to settle into his chair. "I just received that this morning. I've been on the phone with SecNav for an hour already today, wanting to know just what in the devil's going on with the good captain and his lieutenant. I suggest you find your way back down there and sort it all out for us."  
  
"Aye, aye, sir!" Harm came to attention, and Chegwidden nodded his dismissal. Rabb spun in a neat about-face and exited the office, perusing the fax as he made his way back toward his own desk, where Meg was still waiting.  
  
"Well?" she wanted to know as he wandered in the door, still reading the confession. "Harm?"  
  
"Looks like Captain O'Leary's gonna like me a whole lot less." He handed the fax to Meg. "I might end up putting him in Leavenworth for the rest of his life."  
  
May 21st  
  
0830 Hours  
  
U.S.S. Duncan  
  
Norfolk, Virginia  
  
"Hey, David, wait up!" Petty Officer Hines paused at the end of the Duncan's berth, waiting for his crewmate to catch up with him. "Goin' for breakfast?"  
  
"Yeah....Dolly's Diner. You ever been there?"  
  
"Nope, can't say that I have. Mind if I join you?"  
  
"Be my guest." Hines answered lightly, and the two men strolled through the early Virginia morning sunshine. "Well, at least if we're gonna be stuck in port, we've got some nice weather."  
  
"Be even better if we had some hot dates for tonight." The other man grinned. "Whaddya think about this thing with the skipper, anyway? Scuttlebutt is that JAG and his pretty little friend are gonna bust his bird--put him up for a court-martial."  
  
Hines stuffed his hands into his pockets, his expression thoughtful.  
  
"I don't imagine Commander Hollander's too thrilled." he finally remarked. His buddy gave him a sidelong glance.  
  
"XO's been about the calmest person aboard ship this morning, I think. I've never seen him as relaxed as he's been today." He grinned. "Maybe he figures he's up for promotion now."  
  
Hines just glanced away, and he shook his head.  
  
"Maybe we'd better shut up about it for now. Let's just get some of Dolly's flapjacks and some coffee and call it good."  
  
"Dolly, huh?" The other man's grin widened. "You don't happen to know if she two-steps, do ya?"  
  
May 21st  
  
1000 Hours  
  
Brig, Norfolk Naval Base  
  
Norfolk, Virginia  
  
The staff sergeant on duty rose to attention as Harm and Meg entered.  
  
"What can I do for you this morning, Commander, Lieutenant?" he asked pleasantly.  
  
Much too cheerful for a guard....and a Marine guard, at that. Harm thought, and the barest hint of a smile played across his features.  
  
"Lieutenant Commander Rabb and Lieutenant Austin to see Captain O'Leary." Harm replied as Meg signed them in. The staff sergeant turned to a nearby corporal.  
  
"Corporal, take these two officers to see the Captain."  
  
"Yes, sir." The fresh-faced young Marine snapped to, and motioned to the two naval officers. "Follow me, sir....ma'am."  
  
Michael O'Leary stood with his back facing them when they first arrived; he was gazing out the mesh-wired prison window with his hands clasped behind his back. He looked for all the world as if he was standing in command on his bridge, ready to give orders, rather than in a brig cell facing the end of his naval career.  
  
The corporal opened the cell door for Harm and Meg, and they entered, coming to attention. O'Leary head the soft tapping of their shoes coming together, and he shook his head.  
  
"Lose the protocol, Commander. You're not here for a dress-parade; you're here to take my official confession."  
  
"Yes, sir." Harm replied, his tone professional. "The UCMJ still requires me to acknowledge your station, Captain. I'm not about to start disrespecting you now."  
  
"I will give you that, Commander Rabb. You're a good officer. I could almost learn to like a lawyer like you." When the captain finally turned around, he was a bit surprised to see that Harm and Meg had remained at attention. "As you were, Commander." O'Leary's tone carried a note of grudging respect. Meg prepared to take notes, settling on the end of the cell bunk and pulling out pen, paper, and a mini-cassette recorder.  
  
"Sir, for the record, please state your name, rank, and command." Meg asked as she pressed the 'record' button on the cassette recorder.  
  
"Michael Ian O'Leary, Captain, U.S.S. Duncan." The captain answered, settling into "interview" mode. Harm watched him a moment before proceeding.  
  
"Captain, it's your intention to confess to the murder of Petty Officer James Storey?"  
  
"Yes, it is." The Duncan's skipper replied, meeting Harm's gaze evenly.  
  
"Petty Officer Storey served under your command, aboard the Duncan." Harm stated the fact for the record. "What was your motivation for such an attack?" Harm wasted no time in cutting to the chase. O'Leary glanced away now, and his expression became pained.  
  
"I was afraid he was going to put an end to my career. I've worked very hard to get where I am, Commander, and no twenty-year-old kid was going to take that away from me."  
  
Harm frowned a bit, and he crossed his arms.  
  
"How could a Petty Officer threaten your career, sir? Obviously rank was not at issue here." O'Leary appeared even more uncomfortable now, and he shifted slightly.  
  
"He was going to report me for sexual harassment of a female officer. I remember Tailhook, Commander Rabb, and I had no desire to have my own personal version of it."  
  
Harm leaned back against the wall now, his arms still folded across his chest. He regarded the captain curiously for a moment before speaking again.  
  
"Who was the female officer, Captain? It was Lieutenant Powers, wasn't it?" O'Leary didn't answer Rabb right away, but finally he nodded once.  
  
"Yes. Yes, it was. I....admit I made some...improper advances towards her, and she gave me a couple of lights."  
  
"I see." Harm replied. "You're a married man, isn't that correct, sir?"  
  
"You know it is, Mr. Rabb."  
  
"So you conducted yourself in an adulterous manner towards Lieutenant Powers and she turned you down. Is that the reason the Lieutenant requested a transfer to a different command?"  
  
"I can't say for certain, Commander, but I would assume that's an accurate assessment."  
  
"She wanted to leave because she was being harassed sexually, by you, and you denied her transfer."  
  
"That is correct."  
  
"How did Petty Officer Storey come to find out about your treatment of Lieutenant Powers?" Harm glanced at Meg, who was jotting down notes as the interview progressed.  
  
"The Petty Officer interrupted the Lieutenant and I during a moment of.....indiscretion on my part. Straight arrow that he was, he resolved to report me. I....leaned on him pretty hard about it. Finally I decided that he should have an accident.....just go away." O'Leary recounted slowly, and Harm's jaw clenched tightly, a slight tic working momentarily as he listened.  
  
"If you were infatuated with Lieutenant Powers, why did you try to pin the murder on her?" Meg piped up from her note-taking.  
  
"I was angry about the transfer. I didn't want her to leave. And I thought....I don't know...I guess I wanted to get even with her."  
  
"Why change your mind? Why confess now?" Meg spoke again, and O'Leary sighed.  
  
"I guess...to use your word, Lieutenant, I'm still infatuated with her. I can't let her take the punishment for something she didn't do."  
  
Harm pushed away from the wall and began to pace the cell slowly, turning over this new information.  
  
"How did you get your hands on the TRX, Captain?" Rabb suddenly asked, tossing O'Leary a glance as he turned on his heel and paced back the way he'd come.  
  
"TRX?" The captain looked a bit confused and waited for the JAG officer to explain himself.  
  
"Yes, sir. TRX--the plastic explosive used in the detonation of the sonar array. It's a highly experimental compound and it's not even in general military application at this time."  
  
For the first time since they'd begun to talk, Michael O'Leary looked completely unsure of what to say. Harm waited expectantly, still pacing the cell.  
  
"Isn't it...shouldn't I have had counsel present during questioning?" Michael suddenly asked, and Harm raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Well, sir....first of all you asked to confess to me. Second of all, you haven't been officially charged with anything yet. When and if you are, I am legally obligated under the rules of disclosure to provide your defense with a copy of this interview. Right now, this technically still falls under an article 32 JAG investigation."  
  
"But I'm not legally required to answer your questions at this time under the UCMJ, am I?" O'Leary was paying attention to Harm, so he didn't notice the curious glance Meg gave the pacing lieutenant commander.  
  
"I could add obstruction of a JAG investigation to your list of charges, Captain." Harm replied, his tone not threatening, but simply honest.  
  
"I would prefer to have counsel assigned to me before I answer any further questions, Commander." The captain turned back toward the window. "You do what you have to do, but this interview is concluded." Harm now openly looked at Meg, who shrugged slightly.  
  
"Very well, Captain. I'll contact JAG immediately and request such an assignment be made."  
  
Meg gathered together her things, and both of them again came to attention. Captain O'Leary waved them off silently, and Harm called out for the corporal to let them out. As they followed the Marine out of the cell bay, Meg could tell that Harm was chewing on something; his expression and bearing indicated his concentration.  
  
"Well....that was....interesting." She finally commented, and Harm nodded absently. "You know he's lying, sir."  
  
"I know. The TRX was a detail he didn't take into consideration when he made up his story. He couldn't tell me how he got it, because he never had it."  
  
"And that's not all." Meg agreed as they came out of the cell block into the office area. "This was not a case of sexual harassment, Harm...it's a case of fraternization."  
  
"What makes you say that, Lieutenant?" Harm looked curiously at Meg, his eyebrows shooting up in an amused expression. Meg glanced back at him, her lips twitching into a bemused smile of her own.  
  
"You've been a lawyer long enough to know that's a leading question, sir." She replied impishly. Harm shook his head slightly. Meg's smile deepened. "They're covering for each other, Harm. It wasn't abuse....it was an affair."  
  
Harm nodded. He'd had his suspicions...and now he felt they were justified.  
  
"Let's go back and have another talk with Lieutenant Powers." he suggested, and he glanced to his left. "Corporal?"  
  
"Aye, sir!"  
  
NINE  
  
May 21st  
  
1030 Hours  
  
JAG Headquarters  
  
Falls Church, Virginia  
  
Sarah tried to concentrate on her work for the Kersey court-martial, that Harm had so trustingly placed in her hands, but just couldn't seem to keep her mind on it. Instead, her thoughts were drawn to her conversation-- or lack of it, rather--with Alexander Benton the day before. Benton had been smooth....and evasive. Rather odd, considering it was he who reported the theft to N.I. originally. And even that was odd. Why Naval Intelligence, and not the Virginia State Police or the FBI, or even NCIS? The major leaned back in her chair, drumming her fingers impatiently on the desktop, thinking. Abruptly she sat up and picked up her phone, rapidly dialing the number of a friend of hers at the FBI.  
  
"Hello, Deena? Sarah.....fine, and you?....Deena, I need a favor....yes, I'd say it was easily worth that much." Mac smiled as she talked. "I need everything you can get me on one Alexander Benton; it's for a case.....yes, that's the one. Yes, that would be good. Thanks, Dee, I owe you." She replaced the receiver in its cradle and returned to the Kersey file.  
  
It was almost forty-five minutes later that a commotion in the Ops area drew her attention, and she looked up through her open office door to see Special Assistant to the Undersecretary of State, Clayton Webb, striding through the common area. He was making a beeline for Admiral Chegwidden's office, and Mac grimaced. Looks like someone's been chewing on his shorts today, she noted idly. But then, Webb almost always looked as if he'd been sucking on sour lemons. Sarah frowned to herself. Something was up......and if Clayton Webb was involved, it probably wasn't anything good. Twenty-two minutes and eighteen seconds later, she was summoned to the Admiral's office.  
  
When she entered the office and came to attention, Webb was pacing along the far side of the room, and he barely spared her a quick glare as he listened to someone on his cellphone.  
  
"I'm going to make this brief, Major." Chegwidden prefaced tersely, giving the pacing State Department assistant a quick glance. "You are to stop your probe into Benton-Hayes as of right now."  
  
"But sir--" MacKenzie started, confused.  
  
"But nothing. That's an order." Chegwidden's tone was no-nonsense.  
  
"Sir, with all due respect....Benton-Hayes is witholding information that has bearing on Commander Rabb's investigation. I don't--"  
  
"I'm aware of the company's place in the commander's investigation, Major. I've just given you a direct order. You do recognize that, don't you?" The admiral's tone did not invite further discussion.  
  
"Yes, sir." Sarah replied. Just then, Webb closed his cellphone and he glared at her again.  
  
"I just finished talking to the Deputy Director of the FBI. I shut down your inquiry on Alexander Benton."  
  
"What does State have to do with this?" Sarah wanted to know. She'd assumed Webb was here on a completely different matter. That he was sticking his nose into the Storey investigation took her by surprise.  
  
"That's classified!" Webb retorted. "Need to know, Major, and you don't need to know."  
  
"Harm's my partner, and I'm working this investigation with him, Webb. I'd say that means I need to know." She didn't back down from the assistant to State.  
  
"I was under the impression Commander Rabb gave you the Kersey court- martial." Chegwidden interrupted the confrontation. Mac shifted her attention back to her CO.  
  
"Yes, sir. I am lead counsel for that case, but I've received an extension on it."  
  
"I see." The admiral observed her for a moment, then drew in a deep breath that he released in a long sigh. "I can appreciate your concern, Major, but you are now officially out of the loop on this." Webb gave Mac a self-satisfied look. "Before you start getting too proud of yourself, Mister Webb, just bear in mind that Major MacKenzie here has you over a barrel concerning certain events in Columbia. Because even if she forgets it.....I won't." Chegwidden levelled a penetrating look at Clayton, whose expression became instantly chagrined. Sarah stifled a slight smile. "Major, have Mister Roberts contact Commander Rabb, and inform him that his presence is required here ASAP. Dismissed."  
  
"Aye, sir." She drew herself to attention again and quickly left the office. Webb watched her go, and then the admiral leaned back in his chair, regarding Clayton somewhat distastefully.  
  
"Mister Webb, I understand the situation as it has been presented to me. However, if you ever put me in a position like this again, where I have to step on one of my officers like that, you will regret it. Do I make myself perfectly clear?" Clayton shifted uncomfortably now, and he nodded mutely. "Good. Now have a seat outside; my yeoman will get you some coffee, and I'll get some work done in peace before the commander arrives."  
  
Webb hesitated a moment, as if contemplating saying something, but then he changed his mind and exited the office. One didn't hold favors over a two-star...at least not this one. Gayle Osborne, while a significant favor, wasn't going to give him much leverage in this situation.  
  
A.J. Chegwidden simply gave a disgusted little snort and settled back into his chair. He opened the first manila folder that awaited his attention, and started to read, but then stopped, his mind not really on it. He gazed at the closed office door, thinking of the State Department weasel sitting out there drinking coffee and annoying his yeoman. Lieutenant Commander Rabb was about to find things a little more interesting in Norfolk.  
  
May 21st  
  
1040 Hours  
  
Brig, Norfolk Naval Base  
  
Norfolk, Virginia  
  
"What was the nature of your relationship with Captain O'Leary, Lieutenant?" Harm asked in his most disarming fashion, hands in the pockets of his blazer, his hazel eyes sweeping Amanda Powers with a perceptive gaze.  
  
"What....what do you mean, Commander?" Powers looked genuinely confused, his abrupt question after a few moments' polite conversation caught her off-guard.  
  
"Did he ever behave improperly towards you, give you any cause to give him a red light or two?" Harm asked, his voice maintaining a light tone of curiosity.  
  
"No." Amanda answered instantly. "Captain O'Leary has always behaved very professionally towards me." She caught the significant look Meg Austin gave her CO, and she frowned. "What? What does that have to do with Jim's death?"  
  
Harm pulled out the fax that the Admiral had given him earlier and handed it to her.  
  
"Captain O'Leary claims he killed Petty Officer Storey because he was about to face charges of sexual harassment." Rabb said impassively. Amanda scanned the contents of the fax, and she shook her head.  
  
"Oh, no, Michael...." she murmured. "No..."  
  
"You two were having an affair, weren't you?" Harm pressed. Amanda looked up at him, and those eerie eyes filled briefly. "Lieutenant, the Captain seems bent on throwing away his career for you and potentially much more than that. Were you having an affair with him?"  
  
"Sir--" Amanda's voice trailed off.  
  
"Is that what you and Petty Officer Storey argued about? He found out about your relationship with the Captain and threatened to report you?" Harm continued to hold her attention with his steady gaze, and Amanda shifted a bit. "He told you he was going to blow the whistle, and you threatened his life."  
  
"No!" Amanda protested. "I mean, yes, but--"  
  
"Which is it, Lieutenant?" Harm's voice had lost its lightness, and a weightier edge replaced it. "Yes, or no?"  
  
"Jim knew about the affair." Powers asserted. "And yes, we had an argument about it. But I didn't kill him."  
  
"A court-martial panel might disagree with you, Lieutenant. You had motive and means. Your opportunity came while the Duncan was in port for maintenance. The sonar array was partially disassembled for a routine inspection, and you planted the bomb inside."  
  
"No, sir!" Amanda was vehement. "It's true that I was angry at him for what he said. But not angry enough to kill him. Commander...Jim was a good officer, and in the short time we served together, a good friend. I realize that might not be enough to keep me from being charged with his murder, but it's the truth."  
  
"Means, motive, and opportunity." Harm reiterated quietly. "Some of it's still pretty circumstantial, but it could be damaging testimony. And what about Captain O'Leary? The same case could be made against him, but it would carry a little more weight because of the open confession on record." He nodded toward the fax.  
  
"Michael is only trying to protect me, Commander, just as I was trying to protect him by keeping that argument with Jim from you."  
  
"I want to believe you, Lieutenant." Harm replied honestly. "But I don't know if--" Just then the guard appeared at the cell door. The Marine came to attention, and Harm spared him a quick glance. "This is confidential, Corporal."  
  
"Yes sir. Sir, we have a Major MacKenzie on the phone for you."  
  
"All right, Corporal." Harm turned so the Marine could let him out of the cell. "I'll be right back."  
  
"Yes, sir." Meg acknowledged as she watched him leave with the young guard.  
  
"Here you go, Commander." Another of the Marines held out a receiver from behind his desk, and Harm reached for it as the Marine shoved the phone a little closer so the cord would be long enough to reach.  
  
"Hello, Mac?" Harm said as the Marine disabled the "hold" button.  
  
"Harm." The urgency in Sarah's voice was more than obvious, even in the way she said his name.  
  
"Mac, what is it?" Rabb's expression became concerned as he switched the receiver from one ear to the other and turning slightly away from the duty officer's station.  
  
"Harm, the Admiral asked me to have Bud call you, but I wanted to do it myself. Listen...I tried to have an FBI profile done on Alexander Benton, and I got the door closed on me faster than you can the words 'State Department'."  
  
"State?" Harm echoed, his brows knitting together in a thoughtful frown. "Webb?"  
  
"Uh huh. Admiral Chegwidden wants you back here yesterday, and Webb looks like he's about to have a whole litter of kittens."  
  
"Great." Harm sighed. "All right. I'll be there as soon as I get something from the motor pool; we came down in Meg's car again today...yeah...okay, thanks, Mac." He handed the receiver back to the gunnery sergeant, then looked to the corporal. "Go on back and get Lieutenant Austin."  
  
"What's going on, sir?" Meg asked when she joined him moments later. Harm shrugged slightly.  
  
"Admiral's recalled me to Falls Church; an assistant to State is there and wants to have a go at me."  
  
"At you?" Meg was puzzled. "Over what? This is just a preliminary investigation. State shouldn't even care about it."  
  
"Seems to be the million dollar question, Lieutenant." Harm inclined his head toward the cell bay. "Keep at it, see what you can get out of her. I want to know how she got that TRX."  
  
"Yes, sir." Meg acknowledged. Harm nodded.  
  
"I'll give you a call later, let you know what I get, okay?" With that, he was on his way. Meg watched him go, then asked the corporal to take her back. The State Department? she wondered to herself. Even when she and Harm had been partners, his track record with State hadn't been particularly stellar.....  
  
May 21st  
  
1201 Hours  
  
JAG Headquarters  
  
Falls Church, Virginia  
  
Clayton Webb paced anxiously in the ante-room just outside of the Admiral's office, waiting impatiently for Lieutenant Commander Rabb to arrive. He was just about to drive Tiner nuts with his nervous energy. The petty officer glared at Webb openly when the assistant to State's back was turned during his pacing, and then tried, for the millionth time, to settle down to his work. If Webb wanted another cup of coffee, Tiner figured, he wasn't gonna give it to him. The man was wound up enough without any further help.  
  
Suddenly Webb spun on his heel and crossed the ante room in quick steps. Before Tiner had even quite gotten to his feet, Clayton had barged back into the Admiral's office. Chegwidden looked up in complete annoyance, and Tiner was right on Webb's heels.  
  
"Sir, I'm sorry!" Tiner apologized. "I could get Security up here-- "  
  
"Don't worry about it, Tiner." Chegwidden sighed. "If anybody's gonna read Mister Webb the riot act, it's gonna be me."  
  
"Yes, sir." Tiner gave Webb a dirty look, then returned to his desk.  
  
"Where's Commander Rabb?" Webb demanded. "I thought Lieutenant Roberts was supposed to be getting him here."  
  
"He's on his way, Mister Webb. You'll just have to--"  
  
"--keep your shirt on and be patient, Webb." Harm finished the Admiral's sentence as he stepped through the still-open doorway. "You asked to see me, Admiral?" Webb turned towards Harm, bristling a bit as he came nearly toe-to-toe with the lieutenant commander.  
  
"How you manage to get in the middle of my operations is beyond me." Clayton prefaced, and Harm blinked. Okay, Harm thought to himself, this is where the other shoe drops.  
  
"Operation? What I'm in the middle of, Webb, is a murder investigation. What's State got to do with--"  
  
"Just be quiet a moment, and I'll tell you." Webb snapped back.  
  
"Close the hatch, Commander." Chegwidden interrupted, glaring at Clayton, and Harm pushed the door closed. "Seems Mister Webb here has some information that has a direct bearing on your investigation, and he's made a point of coming to us with it personally."  
  
"Even as we speak, State's having a little heart to heart with Admiral Drake. The Duncan will leave Norfolk tomorrow as planned." Webb glared at Rabb. "I'm sorry, Harm, but there's a bigger picture than just a nice Navy boy getting blown up." Now it was Harm's turn to bristle, and the lieutenant commander clenched his hands into tight fists. "Six months ago, we began operations to smuggle ten underground operatives out of China. They were working as doubles for the CIA, and were about to be exposed, so we arranged for their defection. The last one, Xiaohai Li, was the anchor of the network. Her extraction from China is already underway, and it's critical it be carried off because she's bringing us the schematics to China's latest spy satellite."  
  
"It's not enough that her life's on the line?" Harm's tone was biting. Webb gave him a sour look. "So what does this have to do with the murder of a naval petty officer?"  
  
"Your petty officer got caught in an attempt to keep the Duncan away from her rendezvous to bring Xiaohai Li to the United States." There it was. The other shoe. Harm's eyes narrowed slightly.  
  
"Sabotage directed at the Duncan in general but not at Jim in particular." Harm glanced at the Admiral. "You knew about this, sir?" Chegwidden shook his head.  
  
"Not until Mister Webb arrived earlier today."  
  
"Those wargames with the British Royal Navy aren't really wargames, are they Webb? Your agent is aboard one of those ships."  
  
Webb smirked in self-satisfaction for just a moment before his expression turned serious again.  
  
"We really do have a wargames scheduled with the British, and the Duncan was originally part of the U.S. naval contingent. We have an agent from Naval Intelligence on the case. The problem is that the Chinese have gotten to someone on the inside."  
  
"So they used the stolen TRX from Benton-Hayes, sabotaged the Duncan's sonar array, and--" Harm stopped short as Clayton shook his head. "What?"  
  
"That TRX wasn't stolen, Rabb." Clayton sighed softly. "That's what we told them to say. The truth is that it was part of the exchange with the British for helping us bring out our people. They took a pretty big risk." Harm shook his head. Suddenly the light of something else dawned in his eyes, and he looked back over at Webb.  
  
"You wouldn't be here if you didn't need our help." The lieutenant commander theorized. "You need us to help you find your mole. You wouldn't have bothered to come to us in person otherwise."  
  
Webb shifted uncomfortably. Harm Rabb was just too perceptive for his own good. Part and parcel of being a lawyer, Clayton supposed. And of course, he knew the JAG lawyer was well aware of the kind of leverage this favor would give him.  
  
"Yeah, well...it's kind of hard when you've got our operative sitting in the brig, Rabb." Webb admitted grudgingly. Harm's eyes widened slightly.  
  
"Amanda Powers is the N.I. agent." He shook his head. "You gave her a one-way ticket into this operation so State could cover their six if anything went wrong."  
  
"Something like that."  
  
Some of the pieces were beginning to make sense now. With the State Department keeping deniability high on the menu for this operation, Lieutenant Powers' only option out of this assignment was to actually, officially request a transfer. The affair had not played a part in that; it had only been a tragic consequence that had interferred with her mission. The TRX was supposed to have been in her possession, but it was obvious the denonator and the sonar schematics were planted by the mole to frame her for murder, meaning her position had been compromised. But, Harm thought to himself, if that was the case, then why not kill her outright? Why frame her for murder? There were still parts missing from the whole.  
  
"Well, Mister Rabb..." The admiral spoke up now, addressing Harm but regarding Webb with some disdain. "I think you are about to take a cruise. I want you and Lieutenant Powers aboard the Duncan when she leaves port tomorrow morning."  
  
"Yes, sir." Harm acknowledged.  
  
"You'd better go pack a bag, Commander." Chegwidden said by way of dismissal. Harm came to attention.  
  
"Aye, aye, sir!"  
  
May 21st  
  
1320 Hours  
  
U.S.S. Duncan  
  
Norfolk, Virginia  
  
Gloved hands quickly did their work, carefully planting the explosive charges exactly where they were needed, precisely setting the arming mechanism, preparing for the payoff. This was where it counted the most. Tomorrow morning, at 0630, the Duncan would set sail for the northern Atlantic, and a rendezvous with a British destroyer someplace outside of the demarcation for the scheduled wargames. In two days, a Chinese defector would be dead, and he would be aboard a submarine, headed for mainland China, from which he would go anywhere he pleased with a sizable cash donation. He finished his task, and paused a moment to examine his handiwork. He had to admit, this was quite the effort by a nation of billions to keep a solitary defector from revealing a piece of military intelligence.  
  
"The price of silence." he murmured to himself. "Just like everything else in this world....keeps gettin' more expensive all the time."  
  
May 21st  
  
1410 Hours  
  
NCIS Headquarters  
  
Washington Navy Yard  
  
Becca Ryan looked up, startled, as the door to her office flew open and an irritated Harmon Rabb barged in, looking like he wanted to bite off someone's head. Picking a senior officer, she reflected, was a particularly poor choice.  
  
Harm's first action upon leaving the session with Clayton Webb had been to contact Meg at Norfolk to tell her they needed a face-to-face as soon as she could get back, and to initiate the dropping of charges against Amanda Powers. The admiral had been quite correct in releasing the lieutenant; whatever was going to happen next, Harm was going to need the NI agent present.  
  
But the more he turned this new development over in his mind, the more he realized that the original NCIS investigation must have gotten the same pressure and guidance from State that Benton-Hayes and Mac had received. Along with that had come the recollection of how reluctant Becca had been originally to help him reopen the case. Now he knew why.  
  
"You knew, didn't you?" he demanded, without preface or protocol and just laying it out on the table. Ryan's brows knit together in an irritated frown, and she put down the file she'd been perusing.  
  
"Close the door, Harm. If you're going to cuss me out, the least you can do is do it privately." Becca replied evenly. Harm simply stood there and glared at her a moment, then finally turned and pushed the door shut.  
  
"You knew all along that Jimmy's death wasn't accidental. The NCIS investigation was just a front for Webb turning a Navy frigate into a cruise liner for a Chinese defector."  
  
"Harm..." Ryan sighed softly. "It's not that simple."  
  
"It's not?" Harm's eyes flashed hazel fire. "Tell me how it is, then, Commander. You've known Jimmy all his life, for heaven's sake...kept Kevin and me out of trouble more than once. How could you just ignore what happened to him just to hold hands with the State Department?"  
  
"That is way out of line, Mister Rabb!" Becca snapped, her own temper igniting briefly. "First of all, I'll have you know that when the investigation was originally assigned to me, I intended to follow it through to a prosecution on JAG's doorstep, eventually. You know me better than to believe that I'd put aside my principles to make points with State." She sighed again. "Look. You know that Webb is CIA. This was taken out of my hands the moment he got involved in damage control."  
  
"Who issued the order?" Harm was still upset, even though he understood Becca's position.  
  
"Harm, what're you going to do? Climb all over somebody else's six too? What do you think that'll accomplish?"  
  
"Who issued the order?" Rabb pressed.  
  
"The order to close the file and terminate the investigation came from the Chief of Naval Intelligence." Ryan finally answered. "I don't like it any more than you do, but obviously CNI wasn't about to offer me any of the particulars."  
  
"Did Meg know?" Harm asked abruptly. Major MacKenzie's accusation from a few days ago about Meg just being 'damage control' on this assignment resurfaced in his memory, and it stung to think she might've been right. "Did she?"  
  
"No." Becca answered emphatically. "As far as she's concerned, the investigation was closed for lack of evidence. Meg didn't know any of it. The only reason I know anything is because I've got a contact at the CNI office."  
  
Now it was Harm's turn to sigh, and he folded his arms across his chest.  
  
"Webb wants me to sew this one up for him; Admiral's ordered me to be aboard the Duncan when she leaves Norfolk." he prefaced, watching Ryan's expression carefully. "I want you to tell me, Becca....do I know everything?" His gazed at her frankly, unflinchingly.  
  
"Harm, you know I'm not--"  
  
"Do I know everything?" Harm's voice sharpened. "If I'm going to play in Webb's sandbox, I'm going to need a big pail and shovel. This op's gone south; he's not exactly going to be volunteering mountains of information on it. The Company will never let him hear the end of it if it isn't salvaged. I may not like Clay Webb much, but I owe him a lot."  
  
Becca tapped her finger on the desk a moment, then regarded Harm thoughtfully. She didn't like holding out on him. Then again, she wasn't supposed to have this information in the first place.  
  
"Good thing the door is closed, Harm. Otherwise all the junior officers in my office might get the idea that they can barge in here, throw a fit, and get exactly what they want from me." There was a slight smile on her face as she said it, and despite his original mood, Harm smiled in return.  
  
"Somehow I doubt that'll ever happen." he replied lightly. "What do you have?"  
  
"You know the navigator you've detained was the inside agent."  
  
"Right." Harm replied, settling into a chair across from her desk.  
  
"She wasn't working alone." Becca said quietly. "She'd recruited a crewman to help her when she suspected her cover was compromised. It was Jim, Harm. His death was not an accident, nor was it simply the consequence of sabotage. You've been right from the beginning. It was premeditated murder."  
  
Harm nodded silently, the knowledge that he'd been right doing little to ease his mind. He glanced away. The next few days at sea would be very interesting, he had no doubt.  
  
TEN  
  
May 21st  
  
1715 Hours  
  
North of Union Station  
  
Washington, D.C.  
  
Meg rapped on the doorway to Harm's apartment, balancing a bag with two chef's salads and an apple cobbler for dessert that she'd picked up on the way here. She had come back as quickly as she could, after seeing to Harm's request for Amanda Powers' release.  
  
"It's open!" Harm's voice came from within. She opened the door and stepped inside, but Harm wasn't immediately visible from her vantage point.  
  
"Harm?" Meg called out.  
  
Rabb emerged from his bathroom, his electric razor in one hand and its travel case in the other. He fitted it inside the velvet-lined case and snapped it shut, then tossed it into the dufflebag lying on his bed.  
  
"Hey, Meg!" He grinned at her as she began to unload the brown paper bag and perused the contents appreciatively. "I've been rescued."  
  
"Rescued?" The lieutenant j.g. gave him a puzzled look. "Just what do you mean by that?"  
  
"I haven't been grocery shopping for about a week and a half. I think I've become a part-owner of the China Garden takeout place on Elmwood." Harm turned to his closet and pulled out a set of khaki's, neatly folding the pants and shirt and placing the uniform in his bag. Meg frowned.  
  
"What's the bag for? You're not skippin' town on me now, are you?"  
  
"Nope. Taking a little trip. And the best part is....you're coming with me." He gave her a mischievous look, then rumaged around for socks to toss in the dufflebag next.  
  
"Excuse me, sir?" Meg's tone was light, teasing.  
  
"Well....we'll also have the company of a shipload of sailors, but that shouldn't spoil the fun any." He rolled up a couple of white tees and stuffed them into the bag. "When you get home tonight, pack yourself a bag 'cause we're goin' sailin'."  
  
"So long as it's sailing and not submerging, that's just fine." Meg replied, making reference to their first assignment together nearly two years ago when she'd been his junior partner. It had taken place aboard a submarine, and Meg was claustrophobic. The confined spaces of the sub had been more difficult for her to deal with than she'd expected; she'd never felt it as strongly as she had while aboard that submarine, nor had she since. "What's the drill, sir?"  
  
"We've been ordered to be aboard the Duncan when she sails tomorrow morning." Harm replied. "I hope you've got some time tonight, because I have a very interesting story to tell, and then we have some work to do." He winked at her. "Besides....if I really wanted to watch you hyperventilate, I'm sure there are easier options than dragging you aboard a submarine." Meg's cheeks took on a slightly rosy hue, and Harm grinned.  
  
"I wouldn't be so certain, sir." she replied. "You may not have any other options."  
  
"There's always other options."  
  
Harm held her gaze for a moment as he came into the living room to pick a cucumber from his salad before heading into the kitchen for a pair of glasses and some silverware. The slightly upraised eyebrow and the expression of amusement made Meg laugh in spite of herself.  
  
"So what's this story you have to tell me, Harm? I thought the Duncan was being held over for us. Did Admiral Drake change his mind again?"  
  
"Not exactly. He had it changed for him." Harm replied as he returned with the glasses, forks, and a pitcher of iced tea. He placed the items down on the coffee table, then settled onto the floor, 'indian- style'. "It gets messy from there."  
  
Harm outlined for Meg the information from Clayton Webb as they ate, including what he'd learned from Commander Ryan.  
  
"Sounds like your friend Webb has an interesting sideline to working at State." Meg remarked perceptively. Harm nodded, taking a swallow of tea.  
  
"CIA." Harm finished off his tea, and poured himself another glass. "And I'm not sure if I'd go as far as to call him a friend."  
  
"Bureaucratic love-hate relationship?" Meg teased.  
  
"Something like that. Do you have your laptop with you?"  
  
"Uh huh. It's in my car." Meg set aside her own glass and got up. "Be right back."  
  
May 22nd  
  
0132 Hours  
  
North of Union Station  
  
Washington, D.C.  
  
Harm walked back and forth a moment, stretching in a long yawn. He stopped pacing and glanced over at the couch, where Meg was still sitting, notebook computer in her lap. Harm wandered over behind her and reached down to rub her shoulders. They'd been at it for hours, searching personnel records, bank statements and phone records, looking for any clues as to who the spy might be. On a ship of a couple hundred sailors, it was quite the task.  
  
"Hmmm....." Meg closed her eyes and leaned back from the laptop as Harm continued to gently knead her shoulders. "That feels wonderful." His thumbs began to move up the nape of her neck, working over tense muscles, and Meg dropped her head forward to allow him to work his fingers up the entire length of her neck.  
  
"You should go home, get some sleep." he advised. "The Duncan leaves port at 0700. Which means we'll have to leave here in about five hours." There was no response forthcoming, and Harm continued to massage her shoulders. Finally he stopped, and came around from behind the couch. "Meg?"  
  
She had fallen asleep beneath his gentle touch, her head bowed forward and her blonde hair spilling into her face. Harm smiled as he reached over and shut off her computer. Quietly he closed it and put it on the coffee table, then gently eased Meg back onto the couch. Her blue eyes fluttered open, and she started to mutter something, but Harm merely shushed her and draped her with the quilt that hung over the back of the couch.  
  
He stood there a long moment, watching her sleep, taking in every curve of her face, her soft motion as she breathed, the blonde hair that seemed to refuse to stay out of her face. Harm reached down and tenderly brushed aside the stray lock of hair, then impulsively leaned down and brushed his lips against her forehead in a light kiss.  
  
Perhaps, he reflected ruefully, she's not the one who'll be doing the hyperventilating.  
  
May 22nd  
  
0630 Hours  
  
U.S.S. Duncan  
  
Norfolk, Virginia  
  
Timothy Hollander surveyed his bridge with a satisfied air and paced among the crew as they made final preparations to leave Norfolk. Well....at least, it was his bridge temporarily. Captain O'Leary was still in the brig, but the order had come from above that the Duncan was to proceed with her mission to the wargames, regardless of whether or not O'Leary was present. There was a slight commotion behind him, the sound of steps on the deck, and he turned around to see Lieutenant Commander Rabb and Lieutenant j.g. Austin standing there at crisp attention. He couldn't quite keep an expression of contempt from his features as he regarded them.  
  
"Lieutenant Commander Rabb and Lieutenant Austin, reporting as ordered, sir." Harm said. Hollander lifted an eyebrow, taking in Austin's appearance in particular, and asked,  
  
"Whose orders, Commander? They sure in blazes weren't mine."  
  
"No, sir." Harm acknowleged. "Admiral Chegwidden's orders, sir."  
  
"Admiral Drake gave you people seventy-two hours in which to complete your investigation. By my watch, your time is up, Commander Rabb. Get off my boat."  
  
"Sir, with all due respect..." Harm produced a hard copy of their orders, and offered them to Hollander. "...Admiral Drake authorized our presence on board as official observers during the wargames. I've had experience with such assignments before."  
  
Hollander took the papers and scanned them briefly. Webb had had the foresight to obtain a hard copy of their "cover" orders, knowing that the pro tem captain would most likely challenge Harm's presence aboard ship.  
  
"That's right....knew you were familiar the first time you came aboard. You were aboard the Cayuga in the middle of the fracas with that Russian skipper that scuttled his ship and could've blown us into next March, in very tiny pieces."  
  
"Well, actually....I was aboard the Vasiliev during most of the 'fracas'. Captain Grinkov allowed the Cayuga to rescue his crew--and my aide and myself--before sinking his ship." Harm amended.  
  
Hollander glanced up at him, irritated, as he noticed the page detailing the return of Lieutenant Powers to duty.  
  
"You brought Lieutenant Powers back aboard with you?"  
  
"Yes, sir. Charges have been dropped and the lieutenant has been returned to active duty." Harm affirmed. Hollander sniffed disdainfully.  
  
"And what about your sidekick?" He glanced briefly at Meg. "What's NCIS got to do with the observation and evaluation of a wargame sim?"  
  
"My partner is involved in court-cases all this week. And since Lieutenant Austin had been working with me in the past few days on this investigation...." Harm inclined his head thoughtfully. "If all else, she's a weapons specialist. Might find her useful on a sim like this."  
  
"All right. Get yourselves stowed." He turned to a nearby ensign. "Ensign, get these two set up in quarters."  
  
"Aye, aye, sir!" The young ensign, a redheaded female with very green eyes, snapped to, then motioned to Harm and Meg. "This way, sir...ma'am."  
  
"I think we just made his day." Meg murmured quietly as they followed the ensign off the bridge. Harm cast a quick glance over his shoulder as he stepped through the hatch, catching a glimpse of Hollander instructing one of the junior officers.  
  
"Uh huh." he agreed.  
  
The ensign pushed open the hatch to the officers' wardroom and beckoned them inside.  
  
"Sir...you and the Lieutenant might help yourselves to some coffee while I get quarters fixed for you."  
  
"Thank you, Ensign." Rabb acknowledged as he led the way into the wardroom. He headed over to the coffeemaker, as suggested, and pulled down a cup from the nearby shelf. He looked back at Meg, who was settling down at the nearest table and setting up her laptop to continue the work she'd begun the night before. "Those ship-to-shore connections get awfully expensive, don't they?"  
  
"A person's life is at stake, sir. I'm sure the Navy'll pick up the tab." Meg was up and running in no time, and Harm poured himself that cup of coffee.  
  
"No disagreements." he replied, taking a sip of the coffee. He pulled a chair up alongside Meg, turning it so he could straddle it. He rested his arms against the back of the chair, leaning closer to observe the computer screen. "Pull up the service and personnel files on Commander Hollander." Meg complied, but gave Harm a curious glance.  
  
"What for, sir? We've already gone through his files. There's nothing suspicious in them to indicate him as a candidate for espionage."  
  
"Maybe not, but I want to look again. He's been dragging his feet on this investigation from the moment we first came aboard." Harm replied, watching Meg's fingers fly across the keyboard.  
  
"I think that has a little more to do with who's doing the investigating than with the investigation itself. You saw how he looked at me up there." Meg did not often pull the gender card; it just wasn't in her nature to try to defend her abilities so obviously. When she did mention it, then, it usually caught Harm's attention, as it did now. "He wasn't very happy to know Lieutenant Powers is aboard." Meg spared a moment to give him a quick look.  
  
"He's not happy to have any woman aboard, Lieutenant. Hollander's old guard Navy."  
  
"That doesn't make him the mole, sir." Austin said slowly; she was still typing, pulling up cross-matched records. "He's a career officer, decorated and no black marks. Why would he want to sell out to the Chinese?"  
  
"Money." Harm answered automatically. "It's what makes it all go. He owns his father's farm, doesn't he? In..." He reached over to hit the 'down' arrow key on the laptop. "...Warren, Pennsylvania?"  
  
"According to this, the farm is being managed by his two brothers."  
  
"I wonder if that mortgage is paid off, or if their father left them with any outstanding debt. Most farms operate under a sizeable mortgage. I know the only reason my grandmother's farm isn't in receivership is because of granddad's veterans' benefits and life insurance, plus she sold off a good portion of the land."  
  
"I can do some digging around." Meg volunteered. Harm nodded.  
  
"You do that. I'm sure you'll be stuck in front of this keyboard for the better part of the next few days anyway." He grinned. "So much for that wonderful sailing trip, huh?"  
  
"You owe me, sir." Meg smiled back.  
  
"Uh huh." He got up and finished his coffee, turning the chair back to the table it belonged to.  
  
"Where're you going?"  
  
"Thought I'd take a look around, get familiar with things. We're going to be spending the next week here looking for an assasin and protecting a Chinese defector; I want to know where everything's at down here." Rabb tossed the styrofoam cup into the trash. "I'll meet you back here in a little while."  
  
"Five by five." Meg replied absently, already beginning her quest for more information on Timothy Hollander. Harm paused at the hatch to look back at her; her blonde head bent toward the computer, brows knit together slightly in concentration, fingers absolutely flying over the keyboard. Suddenly, as if feeling his eyes on her, Meg paused and glanced back at him. Harm flashed her a grin, the kind that could light up the whole room, then ducked out into the corridor. She shook her head ever so slightly as he left, a smile twitching at her own lips.  
  
May 22nd  
  
0720 Hours  
  
U.S.S. Duncan  
  
Just off the East Coast  
  
It didn't take long for Amanda to put her gear away; nothing had been removed from her quarters while she'd been in the brig, and there wasn't much she'd needed to pick up before returning to duty. It had been quite a relief to learn that Commander Rabb and Lieutenant Austin were aware of her situation; it wasn't like this was her first field assignment....but it was her first field assignment alone without a partner. A field assignment in which she'd broken a cardinal rule....never get involved with a principle subject on an undercover case.  
  
She sighed as she looked herself over in the mirror quickly, pulling out a bobby pin and tucking it back more securely in its place. Her khakis were fine, if a tad snug. She smoothed a hand over her uniform slacks, brushing out a wrinkle. Commander Rabb had informed her that Commander Hollander had taken over as interim captain, since there hadn't been time for a replacement to be posted before the Duncan's orders came through to proceed to the rendezvous with the British Royal Navy. Knowing Timothy Hollander as she'd come to, she figured it would be an interesting couple of days.  
  
Michael, of course, was still in the brig at Norfolk, while his command was sailing on to "do battle" without him. Amanda sighed softly as she regarded herself in the mirror. She was sure he was impatient, wondering where the Duncan was, how his crew was performing. She still hadn't been able to tell him the truth...sitting there in the interview room with him before she'd left to come aboard. The truth wouldn't come until this was all over....if she was still alive to tell it. And if he was willing to hear it. Amanda shook her head. She'd have to stop thinking about him completely in order to carry out her mission.  
  
Three days. Actually, more like two and a half. Their orders intentionally misdirected the Duncan to meet with a British vessel that was quite a distance outside the demarcation lines for the wargames. Then her charge would be aboard, and part of her job would be complete. The other part would be getting the defector, and herself, back to the states alive and in one piece. Preferably with the mole in the brig, so Michael could be cleared of suspicion.  
  
Not much time to accomplish that. Better get crackin'. Amanda thought to herself idly. Perhaps it was time to make her presence known on the bridge.  
  
May 22nd  
  
1045 Hours  
  
U.S.S. Duncan  
  
Somewhere in the Atlantic  
  
Harm started down the steps, gripping the railings halfway and sliding the rest of the way down in the manner that most sailors developed when no one was coming the other way. His six-foot-four-inch height carried him to the bottom in short order, and he swung around to go in the opposite direction on the level he'd reached....  
  
....and ended up nearly nose to nose with a shorter man, a Petty Officer with very light blond hair, almost white, and very blue, very alert eyes.  
  
"I'm sorry, sir." The other man apologized. "I should've been watching where I was going."  
  
"That's all right." Harm replied, a brief frown crossing his features. The petty officer looked familiar to him, but he wasn't placing the face. "I wasn't paying any attention either. What's your name, Petty Officer?"  
  
"Hines. David Hines, sir."  
  
"You were Jim's bunkmate." Harm recognized the name instantly. Meg had interviewed Hines the other day. "I understand you two were pretty tight. How're you holding up?"  
  
"All right, sir. It's been rough, but....Jim'll always be alive as long as we remember him." Hines offered a weak smile. "Did you know him personally, sir?" Harm nodded briefly. "He was quite a character."  
  
"Yes he was." Harm agreed, taking in Hines' thoughtful expression.  
  
"You still investigating what happened?"  
  
"No. We were removed from the case by Admiral Drake, but we were assigned to observe the wargames as legal counsel since they are being conducted in international waters, and we were already familiar with the situation here." Harm noticed a slight shift in the man's bearing, a sudden relaxing of muscles Hines probably hadn't even realized were tensed. "Captain O'Leary confessed, and while it's not ironclad, there's a case against him."  
  
"I don't think the skipper had anything to do with it." Hines asserted, and suddenly glanced away, jamming his hands into his pockets.  
  
"Do you know something you haven't told us, Petty Officer Hines?" Rabb jumped on the hesitation immediately. Hines blinked a bit.  
  
"Sir? No, sir. I just mean....well, Captain O'Leary's a fine man. I just can't believe he'd kill somebody over a woman."  
  
"Scuttlebutt travels fast, as usual." Harm remarked, not surprised that O'Leary's "confession" was public knowledge among the crew, including the affair. "Covering one's six can be a strong motivation for murder, especially when so much is at stake concerning his career."  
  
"Yes, sir. I suppose that's true enough." David agreed after a moment's thought. "If you'll excuse me, sir...they're expecting me in the radio room."  
  
"Of course." Harm stepped aside, and allowed Hines to pass by, and watched the petty officer's retreating back for a moment. Character witness to Captain O'Leary, he mused as Hines disappeared around the corner. Wonder what he thinks about Timothy Hollander?  
  
May 22nd  
  
1325 Hours  
  
U.S.S. Duncan  
  
Somewhere in the Atlantic  
  
Meg was still at the computer when Harm stepped back into the wardroom. He raised an eyebrow at her curiously.  
  
"Don't you ever take a break?" he asked lightly. Meg leaned back in her chair and sighed.  
  
"Haven't in awhile." she admitted. Harm glanced at his watch.  
  
"Did you even have lunch?"  
  
"No, but Ensign LeRoy came back here about ten minutes after you left and told me where our quarters are." Meg held up a slip of paper between her fingers, where she'd jotted down Harm's cabin assignment. Harm reached for it, but she pulled back at the last second, leaving his fingers to grasp at empty air. "Ah ah....first you have to make me a promise, sir."  
  
Harm's eyebrows shot up in an amused expression, and he folded his arms across his chest.  
  
"Oh? What promise?"  
  
"That you'll take me sailing for real after this is over with. You really owe me now, sir!" Her blue eyes twinkled merrily, and Harm responded with another grin. "Well? Do you promise, or do you sleep in here tonight?" She indicated the wardroom with a wave of her hand.  
  
"That's extortion, Lieutenant." Harm replied easily, not willing to "give ground", just yet. "Just what do I really owe you for?"  
  
"That." Meg turned the laptop around on the table so he could see.  
  
Harm leaned closer to inspect the information displayed on the computer screen. He glanced at Meg, his expression questioning, and she nodded confirmation.  
  
"Six months ago, Hollander's farm was facing bankruptcy, his brothers barely keeping it afloat. Now, half a year later, the farm is free and clear and turning a profit." Harm murmured as he perused Meg's findings. He tabbed down the screen, skimming the next paragraph. "How's the first Saturday after we wrap this strike you?"  
  
"Sir?"  
  
"To go sailing?" Harm said casually. Meg laughed a little bit, holding out the slip with the cabin numbers once again. This time she didn't pull away when he reached for the note. "Just remember to pack a bag lunch."  
  
Rabb bent down to pick up his dufflebag, which he'd left in the wardroom when they'd first arrived. He stepped out of the wardroom, and Meg smiled to herself. Saturday...or any other day, for that matter...would be just fine.  
  
Harm slung the dufflebag over his shoulder and opened the slip of paper, heading off into the direction of his assigned quarters. There was a slight shift that he could feel through the soles of his feet; the Duncan was picking up speed.  
  
He reached his quarters and entered, pleasantly surprised that he was quartered alone and not with one of the Duncan's crewmates; most likely the frigate was not running with a full complement. Harm dropped his bag onto the lower bunk and unzipped it. The first thing he removed was the small box that contained the cigars he'd brought along.  
  
"Oh, my. Smoldering carcinogens, my favorite."  
  
Harm looked up at the sound of the voice to see Amanda Powers standing there in the open hatch. He grinned.  
  
"And here I thought, you were beginning to like me."  
  
"Oh, I like you just fine. It's those weeds I hate." Powers chuckled. "My dad used to smoke them; his one vice. Drove my mother nuts."  
  
"It's an acquired taste." Harm agreed. "I got mine from my father, and his wingman, Captain Boone." He placed the cigars on the back of the locker's top shelf.  
  
"Tom Boone?" Amanda asked curiously.  
  
"You know the CAG?" Rabb asked as he pulled out his uniform changes and hung them in the locker.  
  
"Know him? I'm related to him. My mother is his cousin."  
  
"Cousin Tom." Harm smiled at the thought. "With him in the family, how'd you end up bein' a spook instead of a jet jock?"  
  
"Oh, he tried. Believe me, he tried." Amanda laughed again. "Zipping around in a forty-million dollar jet at thirty-five thousand feet just never appealed to me, I guess. Especially when such zipping around has the potential to mean bailing out of said aircraft at the aforementioned altitude."  
  
Harm shrugged.  
  
"But running covert ops for the CIA does?"  
  
"Sometimes." Powers picked up on the serious turn in Harm's voice, pushing the hatch partially closed to afford them a bit more privacy. "Although the spy game isn't all it's cracked up to be in the movies, Commander."  
  
"I don't imagine it is." Rabb turned around to regard her, leaning back against the locker with his hands in his pockets. "This op turned sour, and you made the decision to recruit an unclassified, unqualified naval officer to play the game with you. Only you never let him have a look at the playbook."  
  
Powers closed the hatch completely now, and turned back to face Harm with blue ice in her eyes.  
  
"Are you suggesting that I should've given complete details of a classified investigation to someone who--as you just pointed out--did not have the clearance? Anything I told Jim was strictly on a need-to-know basis. If he didn't need to know, then I didn't tell him, Commander."  
  
"I'm suggesting that you should've been straight up about the possible consequences of his assistance, Lieutenant. I'd say being made a target for murder means he needed to know more than what you told him." Amanda hesitated, and Harm pinned her with a sharp gaze. "Why did you approach him in the first place? What happened that you couldn't complete this mission as planned?"  
  
"I'm pregnant." Amanda replied simply, and her hand instinctively drifted over her midsection. Harm's eyebrows shot up in a startled expression, and Powers nodded confirmation of her words.  
  
"Does Captain O'Leary know?" Harm's voice was soft. Amanda shook her head, glancing away briefly. When she looked back up, there was uncertainty in her expression.  
  
"No, Michael doesn't know."  
  
"So that's the reason you wanted the transfer. Webb didn't leave you an 'out', and you were trapped." Harm picked up the empty dufflebag and dropped it into the bottom of the locker, then closed it.  
  
"I was prepared to risk my life, Commander; that's part of the job. But I wasn't prepared to risk the life of my child."  
  
May 22nd  
  
1950 Hours  
  
U.S.S. Duncan  
  
Somewhere in the Atlantic  
  
Meg pushed open the hatch and stepped onto the Duncan's deck, her hair instantly blown about by the stiff breeze. Harm looked up from lighting a cigar at the sound of the hatch closing. He took a long drag on the cigar, exhaling smoke slowly as she approached.  
  
"Thought I might find you up here." she said, coming alongside him and gripping the railing. They were amidships on the port side of the frigate.  
  
"Mmhhmm."  
  
"Still think it's Hollander?" Meg looked out over the waves as Harm smoked a little more.  
  
"Motive, means, and opportunity." he replied with a loose shrug. He relayed his earlier conversation with Amanda Powers. "...and she says that in her argument with Jim, they discussed his involvement. If Hollander believed Jim was the NI agent instead of Amanda....well...that would explain his killing Jim and not her. And his general dislike of women in the Navy would be enough for him to want to frame her for it." Harm finished, flicking ashes from the cigar. "But, having said all that....." He shrugged again.  
  
"....it's all circumstantial. Just like any case we've tried to build so far." Meg finished, knowing that was exactly where Harm was going.  
  
"I have the feeling, Meg, that we won't know for certain until we get that Chinese operative on board."  
  
Meg glanced over at him; Rabb was staring off into distance, lost in his own thoughts, cigar held loosely between his fingers.  
  
"You have to believe your own words, sir." she finally said after observing him for several moments. Harm looked over to her, a puzzled expression on his features.  
  
"Which ones would those be--?" he asked, but not sarcastically. Meg's expression softened into one of caring.  
  
"The ones you told me on the way back from Arlington two days ago. What you told me about Petty Officer Storey, and the things you said about finding the truth." Meg reminded him of the talk they'd had during the drive from visiting Jim's grave with Kevin Storey. They'd discussed the case itself, but eventually the conversation had drifted back to some of Harm's recollections of Jim. "I didn't know Petty Officer Storey, but if he was anything like you described him, then he was an honorable officer and a good man. He didn't die for nothing."  
  
"You were paying attention to all that rambling?" Harm took another hit on the cigar, not quite looking at her. "I thought you were just being polite." His tone was deceptively light; but there was an undercurrent in it that working with him for a year had taught her to recognize.  
  
"You know I was paying attention, sir. Two days ago, you were determined to know the truth." Meg reached over impulsively and clasped his wrist with her hand just as he was bringing the cigar up again. She locked gazes with him during that moment's pause, and her eyes communicated a strength that he'd come to appreciate during their previous partnership. "Stay the course, Harm. You'll get him." Meg gave his wrist a slight extra squeeze, then went back the way she'd come, leaving him alone with his cigar and his thoughts.  
  
"I hope you're right." he murmured after she'd vanished back inside the ship. He took one last hit on the cigar, then tossed it overboard, watching idly as it fell into the sea below. "I hope you're right."  
  
ELEVEN  
  
May 23rd  
  
0645 Hours  
  
U.S.S. Duncan  
  
Somewhere in the Atlantic  
  
Meg settled down in the chair across from Harm; he was nursing along a mug of coffee in the corner of the officers' mess, having already finished his breakfast.  
  
"Is that your first cup or your second?" she asked him curiously. He merely raised an eyebrow at her, and she grinned. "First."  
  
"And how did you arrive at that conclusion, Lieutenant?" Harm replied between swallows. Meg's grin broadened.  
  
"That look on your face, sir." Meg's expression was mischievous. "I remember some of those early mornings at JAG." She cocked her head slightly. "I used to wonder when I was first partnered with you if your confrontations with Commander Krennick were your attempts to get her goat, or if you were just plain grouchy in the morning."  
  
"Excuse me?" Both of Harm's eyebrows were lifted now in an expression of feigned offense.  
  
"Now I know....you're just a grouch before caffeine." Meg sipped at her own coffee, and Harm exhaled in an exaggerated sigh.  
  
"Hey, now....I don't--"  
  
"Commander? Lieutenant? Mind if I join you?" Amanda Powers interrupted, carrying her own mug. Harm moved his chair over, and motioned for her to take the spot next to him. She pulled a chair from an adjoining table and settled down into it, wrapping her hands around the mug and inhaling the steam from the hot tea inside.  
  
"You don't look so good, Lieutenant." Harm observed. Amanda shot him an irritated glance.  
  
"I thought I was done with the morning sickness." she murmured quietly back. "Apparently I'm not." She sipped a little at the tea, and closed her eyes. Harm and Meg exchanged quick glances.  
  
"You should've said something to Webb." Harm shook his head slightly.  
  
"And destroy Michael's career?" Amanda tipped her head back and took a deep breath, willing the nausea away. "I couldn't do that to him. I knew this case would be wrapped before I had to tell him anything, and by that time, I'd be back in Washington."  
  
"You're not fit to finish this case." Harm pressed. "I'll cut a deal with Webb, get you outta here."  
  
"No!" Amanda opened her eyes and fixed him with a steely gaze. "I might not be thrilled with my situation right now...but as long as I'm here...I might as well finish it out, see this thing through. I owe Jim that much. And it's the last thing I'm likely to do in this Navy; if I can make a good ending, then I'll have that to take away with me."  
  
Harm nodded silently; looking into her troubled eyes and seeing all the emotions play. She was driven by love and by duty, each vying for her attention. On one hand, she desperately wanted to protect the life she carried within....on the other, she wanted to see her mission to a successful completion. Apparently they were two opposites that had warred inside for some time.  
  
"All right, Lieutenant. What's the game plan? I think it's about time you let us in on the details." Harm swallowed more coffee, and waited expectantly. If Amanda Powers wanted to stay on this, then she was going to have to be committed to it a hundred percent; no more war on the inside. He caught a sharp glance from Meg, but he gave her a wise look in return. They couldn't afford any more surprises, not this late in the game.  
  
"You're right, Commander." Amanda admitted, pausing long enough to drink more tea. "Our rendezvous will be coming up shortly after 2400, and we'll need to be ready for it. The orders for the wargame sim containing the demarcation boundaries of the exercise have been replaced with a set of orders with a completely different heading. We'll actually end up meeting with a British ship just outside English territorial waters. Our package will be coming to us via helo."  
  
"Anyone topside know about this yet?" Meg asked. Amanda shook her head.  
  
"Not yet, but the skipper'll have to know before we actually contact the Brits."  
  
Harm fidgeted slightly, telegraphing his displeasure with the small motion. Powers was right, of course; but if Hollander was their man.....  
  
"Look, I know you think Commander Hollander has something to do with this...but Michael....Captain O'Leary....trusts him implicitly."  
  
"Trust can be misplaced, Lieutenant." Harm glanced around the room cautiously. "All I'm saying is to stay sharp."  
  
"Yes, sir." Powers replied reluctantly. Even though this was technically still her op, she had to acknowledge rank.  
  
Harm glanced at his watch. There was a whole day stretching out ahead of them before they would pick up the Chinese defector at midnight. He finished his coffee, which was almost cold now.  
  
"If we don't have our man pegged by midnight, it'll be a long trip back to Norfolk." he remarked. He looked at Meg, who nodded slightly in acknowledgement. "Where do you plan on putting her once she's aboard?"  
  
"Most likely the VIP quarters. By then the skipper'll know what's going on and we can have guards posted." Amanda answered.  
  
"I'd like to check it out before we pick her up, make sure it's secure." Rabb stood up. "Meg, you're with me."  
  
"Yes, sir." Meg was finished with her breakfast and was ready to go. Harm looked at Amanda, and this time he was a bit more compassionate.  
  
"Try to pull yourself together, Lieutenant. You've gotten this far...it won't be long now."  
  
"Aye, aye, sir." Powers sipped at her tea.  
  
May 23rd  
  
0915 Hours  
  
U.S.S. Duncan  
  
Somewhere in the Atlantic  
  
"Sounds like she wants to do the right thing." Meg said as she stepped into the VIP cabin.  
  
"The right thing would have been never to get involved with O'Leary in the first place." Harm protested, opening the locker and carefully searching it.  
  
"Attractions don't always follow regulations, sir."  
  
"No, but choices must." Harm glanced back over his shoulder at her back; she was checking the opposite locker. More than anyone, he understood what that meant....his choice had been a daily one while he and Meg had been partners. He'd often wondered what it would be like to love her, freely and without reservation. But with her in his chain of command, it had been impossible to do. "If Webb knew about this, he'd be having kittens just now."  
  
"Sounds to me like that's almost a daily occurance with him anyway." Meg moved from the locker over to the bunks.  
  
"Hmm..." Harm shook his head slightly. "Seems to me that she's a bit too trusting of someone who dislikes her as much as Hollander."  
  
"I don't know, Harm. Maybe--" Meg sat down on the bottom bunk, and there was a flat click.  
  
"Meg!" Harm whirled sharply around. "Don't move."  
  
Meg looked up at him; the only indication of fear was a slight flash in her eyes. Harm dropped to the floor and looked beneath the rack.  
  
"Harm?" Meg prompted after several moments' silence. Harm craned his head to glance up at her.  
  
"Don't move. There's enough TRX here to blow you out to sea. It's connected to a weight-sensitive trigger. If you try to get up...."  
  
"I'm not goin' anywhere." Meg answered instantly, practically freezing in position. Harm partially wriggled his way beneath the rack for a closer look at the bomb. It didn't appear to be an extremely complicated device, but neither was he going to mess with it and risk killing them both. "Hang on, Meg; I'll be right back."*  
  
May 23rd  
  
1000 Hours  
  
U.S.S. Duncan  
  
Somewhere in the Atlantic  
  
"You were lucky the Lieutenant Commander was with you, ma'am." The Marine who'd disabled the bomb looked first at Meg, then at Harm. "If that'd gone off, we'da been scrapin' you off the bulkhead."  
  
"We get the idea." Harm frowned disapprovingly at the corporal. "Not a word of this to anyone, do you read me?"  
  
"Aye sir."  
  
"I want this locked away as evidence, and if I hear one breath of scuttlebutt, I'll personally see to it that you dogpaddle your way back to Norfolk. Understood, Marine?"  
  
"Aye, aye, sir!"  
  
Harm turned toward Meg, who hadn't said a word from the moment the Marine had entered the room. If she was shaken, she hadn't shown it, but he was concerned nonetheless.  
  
"Are you all right, Lieutenant?" he asked softly. He impulsively brushed her hand with his own, and Meg nodded silently. "You sure?"  
  
"Mmhhmm." Meg paused until the Marine had exited the cabin with the bomb. "I don't like this, sir."  
  
"I'm not terribly thrilled about it, myself."  
  
"That's not what I mean." Meg shook her head, and pushed her hands into her pockets. "I don't like being two steps behind. If we believe Lieutenant Powers about not telling anyone the details of this operation, then that means our mole has a reliable source of intell, and this was most likely planted here before we even came aboard yesterday."  
  
"And if we don't believe her?" Harm asked quietly. "She becomes a suspect again." Meg started for the hatch, and he called after her, "Where are you going, Lieutenant?"  
  
"Back to my computer, sir."  
  
May 23rd  
  
1505 Hours  
  
U.S.S. Duncan  
  
Somewhere in the Atlantic  
  
"You're telling me there's a spy for the Chinese government aboard my boat?" Timothy Hollander was incredulous. "And you're here from Naval Intelligence to spook 'im out?"  
  
"Yes, sir." Amanda Powers replied confidently. Hollander looked at Harm sharply.  
  
"I don't know what game you're playin' with me, JAG, but I'm not biting."  
  
"This is no game, sir. She is with NI." Harm affirmed. The three of them were in private conference in Hollander's quarters at Harm's request.  
  
He'd informed Amanda about the explosive device in the cabin, and her reaction had been much the same as Meg's--that their inside man was getting advice from someone further upline. She then suggested that since her watch was next, and she would be at the helm when their course correction came, that they speak with the skipper as soon as possible. But he remained wary and alert as he stood beside the tall female lieutenant.  
  
Hollander's eyes narrowed slightly, and he swore softly.  
  
"And this British ship we're supposed to rendezvous with is carrying this agent."  
  
"Yes, sir." Amanda answered again.  
  
"Do you know who this spy is?" Hollander wanted to know. He looked at Powers, then Rabb, and back again, his eyes still piercing.  
  
"We have a few ideas, sir, but nothing concrete." Harm replied guardedly. He didn't want to give it away just yet that he still considered the man across from him as the primary suspect.  
  
"Find him, Mr. Rabb. If those are your real orders, then I suggest you fulfill them." Hollander sighed, then looked at Amanda. "Tell me what I need to know, Lieutenant."  
  
"Aye, sir."  
  
While Amanda outlined the basics of the plan, Harm's gaze wandered about the quarters of the temporary captain. There were a few small items that indicated Hollander's country roots, one of which was a pipe resting on a small hand-carved holder on the corner of his desk. Mostly it was neat and spartan, like most quarters aboard ship. Another item caught his eye--a framed aerial photograph of what presumably was the Hollander family farm. Harm glanced back at the other two; Hollander was bent over a chart while Amanda plotted out their rendezvous point for him. Harm wandered over to the photo and looked it over curiously. His motion caught Hollander's attention, and the pro-tem skipper straightened away from Amanda to frown at him.  
  
"What do you think you're doing, Mr. Rabb?"  
  
Harm looked up innocently at Hollander, and he motioned to the picture.  
  
"My grandmother has a farm in Pennsylvania. Lot like this place here."  
  
Timothy Hollander's expression softened, and he drew closer, looking at the picture as if he hadn't seen it in a long time.  
  
"Been in the family for three generations. Almost lost it last December."  
  
"Really?" Harm asked idly, reaching for the frame. "May I?"  
  
"Sure." The other man nodded, and Harm picked up the photo for a closer look. "We were mortgaged pretty badly, but we got a nice surprise from my Uncle Andrew when he passed away. He left us enough money to pay it off, which surprised the heck outta me because it was my father who inherited the place originally, not Uncle Andy."  
  
Harm looked at Hollander briefly, trying to gauge the sincerity of his voice. He wondered just what it was that Meg was checking on her computer. He was going to have a quick conference with her as soon as humanly possible.  
  
"Do you two mind if we take care of this before we start in on Old Home Week?" Amanda asked, irritated. Harm looked at her curiously.  
  
"Not at all, Lieutenant."  
  
May 23rd  
  
2110 Hours  
  
U.S.S. Duncan  
  
Somewhere in the Atlantic  
  
"Got it."  
  
Harm looked up from his latest cup of coffee at Meg, who was leaning back in her chair and stretching.  
  
"Got what?" he asked as he got up to peer over her shoulder at the computer screen.  
  
"Hollander's Uncle Andy." Austin replied cheerfully, glancing back at him. "Passed away three months ago. Look here--" She indicated a part of the obituary she'd dug up from the archives of a local Pennsylvania paper via the Internet. "--says the deceased left 'a sizeable estate' to his three nephews. I think he's telling the truth, Harm."  
  
"And we may have let a murderer out of the brig." Harm's expression darkened momentarily. "We're going to have to keep an eye on Lieutenant Powers. Keep checking. If she's the upline source, there's still a bomber on board."  
  
Meg nodded, and flexed her fingers before leaning back over the computer, returning to the personnel investigations she had begun two evenings ago.  
  
Harm straightened away from the back of Meg's chair, reaching up to rub his eyes.  
  
"How can you stand that for five hours straight?" There was a bit of admiration in his tone. "I think I'd go nuts trying to look at that screen for that long."  
  
"Lots of practice, sir." Meg glanced up at Harm and smiled. Again there was a familiar feeling, from their first assignment together--her tapping away furiously at a notebook and him watching over her shoulder for the results. She'd proven herself to him in those few minutes, and now she felt like they were being given....what? A chance to start over? A thread to pick up where they'd left off before her transfer? Meg turned her attention back to her work, not wanting to display her feelings in her expression.  
  
For his own part, Harm turned back toward the table where he'd left his coffee and picked up the styrofoam cup, sipping absently. He too was struck by the same sense of familiarity; times past of working together with Meg Austin and the effect that being in such close proximity to her had on him. But...just as in so many times past, duty was pressing in on them, keeping them at arm's length.  
  
Maybe, when this is all over with...  
  
His official reasoning behind bringing her aboard this investigation had been that she was familiar with the original NCIS investigation, and that he was familiar with her investigative habits....and that was as far as any official reasoning could go. His personal reasoning, however...well, those thoughts had danced just on the edge of his mind throughout the last few days, and they were even more compelling than his "official" ones.  
  
"Maybe you should take a break anyway." Harm suggested. "Our...package comes on board in about three hours."  
  
Meg merely nodded, her fingers flying.  
  
"That only leaves me three hours to pin down our man, sir. I'd better stay here."  
  
"All right....you say so." Rabb drained the rest of his cup. "I'll be back to get you when it's time."  
  
Harm exited the wardroom, leaving Meg to her research. She glanced at the hatch as it swung shut, and she sighed softly. Ever the dutiful officer...  
  
Maybe, when this is all over with....  
  
May 23rd  
  
2300 Hours  
  
U.S.S. Duncan  
  
Somewhere in the Atlantic  
  
The Duncan's course change had taken them in a northernly direction, and for the past hour she had been sailing at her top speed to make the rendezvous. Timothy Hollander paced among his crew, having stayed at his post past his watch, knowing what was about to happen. He glanced now and again at Amanda Powers, at her navigation post, and marvelled again at the fact that NI had been right under his nose the whole time and he hadn't known it.  
  
Harm stepped into the wardroom, and shook his head slightly. Meg was still at it, typing away furiously.  
  
"Lieutenant?" he prompted after a moment's watching her. She hadn't even acknowledged his presence.  
  
"I think I'm on to something, sir." was Austin's reply, her eyes not leaving the screen. Harm stepped closer, frowning.  
  
"Meg, our meeting with that destroyer is just about an hour away. We need to be topside."  
  
"Just give me a few more minutes, sir. I'll join you on the bridge." Meg spared him a glance now, and it was pleading. Harm hesitated a moment, then nodded.  
  
"All right, you've got half an hour. Then I want you up there, understood?"  
  
"Yes, sir!"  
  
So the "package" beneath the rack had been discovered. No matter. He would find another way to carry out his mission. Very close now.....very close. He wondered briefly how that JAG was going to feel knowing he'd failed in his purpose. Because no matter what the lieutenant commander said about being here for the wargames, he knew better. No, that JAG was still here because of the original investigation.  
  
His only concern now was finishing his task and getting off this ship.  
  
"Payment in full."  
  
There was movement behind him, and Timothy Hollander glanced up from his musings to see Lieutenant Commander Rabb coming to attention.  
  
"Stand at ease." Hollander ordered. Harm smoothly dropped into an "at ease" stance. Was it his imagination, or did the pro-tem skipper sound a *little* less hostile than before?  
  
"Thought I'd come up and see how close we were to the wargames area, sir." Harm said innocently. Hollander nodded once, immediately understanding.  
  
"Just make sure you stay out of my way, Commander. Your orders are to observe, not interfere. Understood?"  
  
"Aye, aye, skipper." Harm met Hollander's gaze evenly, and held it for a long moment.  
  
TWELVE  
  
May 23rd  
  
2350 Hours  
  
U.S.S. Duncan  
  
Somewhere in the Atlantic  
  
"Skipper, I've got a surface contact....designate contact as Tango Six." The sonar man announced, and Hollander drifted over to the bridge windows. It was dark and raining, but the running lights of the other ship could be seen winking out over the waves.  
  
"We're still in international waters....see if you can raise her." Hollander commented, glancing over at his radio man.  
  
"Aye, aye, sir."  
  
Amanda Powers looked up from her post, and Hollander turned toward her.  
  
"XO." he called out, and the ship's usual second-in-command drew next to him.  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
"See about getting a replacement at navigation for the Lieutenant." Hollander said quietly. His exec frowned a moment, but then snapped to.  
  
"Aye, sir."  
  
"Captain? I've got contact....says she's the H.M.S. Fontaine, sir." The communications officer sounded slightly puzzled. "Her skipper says they've got cargo for us coming via helo, sir."  
  
Hollander looked at Harm.  
  
"Perhaps, Mister Rabb, you should head up topside and make sure they aren't tryin' any tricks. The Brits might be allies, but in a sim, all kinds of things can happen, as I'm sure you're aware, Commander."  
  
"Yes, sir." Harm acknowledged, then nodded to Amanda. Her replacement arrived on the bridge just then, and the two of them snapped to attention briefly before leaving the bridge.  
  
"XO..." Hollander called out again, just a few moments after their departure. The exec approached him once more. "Take the conn."  
  
"Aye, sir."  
  
Harm came up onto the deck as the British helo approached the Duncan. It was a driving rain that was pelting them, and he blinked as heavy drops hit his face. He was glad he'd grabbed the slick he was wearing on the way up. Beside him, Amanda shifted slightly.  
  
"So far, so good!" she called to him. Harm glanced down at her, a skeptical look on his face.  
  
"We still have the return trip to Norfolk, Lieutenant! It isn't over yet!"  
  
Meg burst onto the bridge, looking for Harm. He was nowhere to be seen, and neither was Amanda Power or Timothy Hollander. Hollander's XO was standing near the radio officer, and she headed straight for him, heedless of protocol.  
  
"Sir, have you seen Commander Rabb?" she asked breathlessly. The exec looked at her curiously.  
  
"He's topside to meet a helo the Brits are sending us. Why?"  
  
"I have to find him! And Commander Hollander?"  
  
"Skipper's stepped out, Lieutenant....I assume he's joined Commander Rabb."  
  
Meg whirled around and fairly raced from the bridge, heading for the deck. Xiaohai Li's life depended on her getting to him.  
  
He stood near the hangar doors, his sidearm at the ready. Hopefully his contact was ready for him. The helo hovered over the Duncan's deck, then slowly settled down into a nice, smooth landing. The first person out was a British officer, a tall fellow with a wary look. The second person out was short...with dark hair...a slender Chinese woman.  
  
He hesitated. A woman. Why did it have to be a female? He cocked his weapon and raised it, standing in the shadows, waiting for his shot.  
  
On the bridge, the sonar man yelled out again.  
  
"Sir, I've got another contact, submerged.....designate contact as Tango Seven."  
  
"Submerged?" The exec frowned. "What the devil are these Royals up to?"  
  
Harm and Amanda hurried toward the chopper, where they traded salutes with the British officer, a "leftenant" in Her Majesty's Royal Navy.  
  
"Well, she's in the hands of you chaps now." The leftenant said, and Harm looked at the wet, bedraggled Chinese woman who stood shivering in the cutting sea wind.  
  
There was a sudden commotion further out to sea, and Harm squinted, trying to see into the night. The British sailor cursed colorfully.  
  
"What is it?" Harm yelled. The other man turned toward him.  
  
"It's a Chinese submarine, Commander! Been tailing us from the moment we left territorial waters."  
  
"Let's get her below!" Harm hollered to Amanda. Powers nodded, and the three of them started across the deck--  
  
Shots were fired from the hangar area, and Amanda shoved the Chinese agent ahead of her, towards the hatch. Harm was right behind the slight Chinese woman, and he practically hustled her into the ship just as Meg was coming out.  
  
"Sir! What's--"  
  
Another shot was fired, and Amanda, halfway across the deck, crumpled to her knees. The British leftenant was returning fire now, and gunfire was exchanged, ricocheting off the helo and the deck.  
  
"Get her below!" Harm yelled, and he turned around, sprinting back towards Amanda, who was lying on her side on the deck. A shot fired zinged overhead, and another one felled the British officer. Suddenly Meg was beside him. "What are you doing, Lieutenant?"  
  
"Trying to keep you alive, sir!" Meg shouted back. She helped Harm get Amanda to her feet; the bullet wound was to her upper left arm. It was bleeding freely, but didn't appear to be life-threatening. Together the two of them got Powers back into the ship. Xiaohai Li was standing in the company of Timothy Hollander, and Harm blinked, taken by surprise. Hollander was accompanied by a pair of Marines, and he ordered them to take the Chinese defector below and guard her in the VIP cabin.  
  
"Let's get that S.O.B.!" Hollander snapped at Harm, and Rabb nodded.  
  
"Yes, sir!" The two of them took off running back through the passageway, intending to enter the hangar from the inner doors. On the deck outside, another of the British officers, the pilot, had disembarked and was returning fire.  
  
Harm and Hollander burst into the hangar, and dodged in separate directions as their man fired the first two shots of a new clip at them. But he couldn't ignore the fire still coming from the British chopper pilot, and he turned to return shots.  
  
Hollander moved first, drawing the shooter's attention, and then Harm leaped from the opposite side, practically flattening the shooter to the deck. One hand closed around the shooter's wrist, and they struggled for control of the pistol. The struggle was brief, however, and the gun eventually dropped to the deck. Timothy Hollander helped haul the man to his feet, and Harm yanked him out of the shadows into the lights on deck just as Meg came running in.  
  
"Hines!" Hollander exclaimed. The blonde petty officer tried to look defiant, found that he couldn't.  
  
"That's what I was coming to tell you, sir." Meg replied, looking first at Harm, then David Hines, then back again. "In the course of my research, I found out that Petty Officer Hines' mother is in the oncology wing at Mercy General in Washington DC. Most of his ship-to-shore phone calls are to her room. And I found an offshore account in her name, established nearly six months ago, and no unpaid hospital bills."  
  
"Cancer treatments can be pretty expensive." Harm remarked.  
  
"Three...three surgeries in two years." Hines spat out. "I didn't have a choice!"  
  
"So you sold out and killed your best friend instead?" Hollander said contemptuously.  
  
"I didn't want to kill Jim! I didn't....Everyone has their breaking point." Hines replied, his voice trembling now, all efforts at being cool and in control gone. "Everyone."  
  
"Sir, there's a Chinese submarine off our port bow." Harm told Hollander. "It's my guess they came for the Petty Officer here."  
  
"I'll handle that, Commander. You just handle him."  
  
"Aye, aye, Skipper!" Harm replied, looking at Hollander. The use of the captain's "nickname" caught Hollander's attention, and the two men held each other's gazes for several moments. Then Hollander was off again, heading for the bridge, as two Marines approached. "Arrest him." Harm ordered. He glanced out toward the helo; a pair of medics were already seeing to the downed British officer. Then he looked at Meg.  
  
"Nice work, sir." she said, a slight smile on her face.  
  
"You didn't do too badly yourself, Lieutenant."  
  
May 30th  
  
1245 Hours  
  
Chesapeake Bay  
  
Chesapeake, Virginia  
  
The sun was warm, the breeze just right, and the small sailboat was perfect for a crew of two on an early Saturday afternoon. Harm handled the craft with a steady hand, and Meg was completely enjoying herself.  
  
"Turns out our spy has a soft spot. The reason he killed Jim and framed Amanda was because he couldn't bring himself to kill a pregnant woman. When Jim and Amanda were arguing about the affair, apparently she accidentally mentioned the pregnancy. She told me she doesn't remember saying anything to Jim about it, but it saved her life." Harm mused aloud.  
  
"What's going to happen to her?" Meg asked.  
  
"She's resigning her commission. Apparently Captain O'Leary is, too. Said he'd already compromised too much of his career to stay in any longer. He's recommending that Commander Hollander for promotion to captain and permanent command of the Duncan."  
  
"What about the note, Harm? The one Lieutenant Storey found in his locker?"  
  
"Also from Hines. Seems he couldn't just kill his best friend and completely walk away from it. His only motivation was to escape with the money he needed to help his mother, but he couldn't let Ace think Jim died for nothing."  
  
"A spy with a conscience?" Meg wondered.  
  
"Apparently so." Harm shook his head slightly. "Amazing, isn't it? In the note he said he wanted justice to be done. I think in some ways he wanted to be caught. Well...it's over now." He looked out over the bay, his thoughts of a young man in dress whites receiving his commission and a proud older brother and a proud aviator friend. "It's over for all of us."  
  
Meg reached over and squeezed his hand.  
  
"I suppose your friend Webb was happy." she remarked, trying to lighten the mood. Harm chuckled slightly.  
  
"As happy as he could be for having the British Embassy up in arms over one of the people getting shot during a wargames exercise." he conceded.  
  
"Well, Harm...I have some good news and some bad news." Meg announced, and Harm frowned slightly.  
  
"I thought I was done with bad news for awhile." He shifted slightly to handle the tack. "I suppose you should get it out of the way." Harm glanced at her, and her expression turned serious.  
  
"I've received another transfer. I'm leaving NCIS HQ effective Monday."  
  
Harm could've fallen out of the boat at that point, and he just gaped at her, astonished.  
  
"How long've you known about this?" he finally got out. Meg glanced away a moment, then looked him in the eye.  
  
"For almost a week now. I didn't think it was appropriate to tell you while we were still trying to investigate this case."  
  
Harm's heart sank to the soles of his shoes as he looked at her. He could tell by her expression that this transfer was going to take her somewhere quite far...he swallowed hard, looking back out over the bay again, unsure of what to say. So much had been left unsaid between them for so long....  
  
"And the good news?" he finally asked quietly. Meg broke into a broad smile.  
  
"I never thought you'd ask, Harm. NCIS decided that the liason program wasn't going to work well out of their division, and recent events prompted the CNI to take a closer look at what was going on with their agents in the field. So Commander Ryan's program has been shifted to the responsibility of Naval Intelligence....and she's requested that I remain on her staff."  
  
It took a moment for the news to sink in.  
  
"She requested--?"  
  
"Harm, I'm staying. In Washington." Meg giggled, and Harm suddenly leaned out over the side of the boat to scoop up a handful of water and throw it at her. "Harm!" Meg squealed. Rabb grinned broadly.  
  
"That's what you get for scarin' me, Meg Austin." he said. Meg smiled slyly.  
  
"Scared? You?" she teased. Harm's expression softened.  
  
"Yeah, me. I was afraid I'd never get the chance to tell you how I....feel about you."  
  
"And how do you feel about me, Commander Rabb?" Meg asked softly, moving closer to him. Harm held her gaze for a long moment, then leaned forward to gently kiss her. When he drew back, his eyes searched hers, and she responded even more quietly, "Is that a fact?"  
  
"It is, Lieutenant Austin." Harm replied. "And how do you feel about me?" A soft smile spread across her face, and then Meg beckoned him close again and returned the kiss. "Is that a fact?"  
  
"It is."  
  
Finis 


End file.
